Why must they take my Lord from me?
Why, oh why, can they not see
What it is they have really done?
They have killed God's only son.
I know he came to suffer and die
But I hold him in my arms, and I cry:
"Abba, my father, why must this be true
For Jesus, he was my son too.
Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.
Father, my father, if only they knew"
Let these tears that fall be as sweet perfume
As I lay our son in a borrowed tomb
Father, my father, cleanse them from their sin
Father, I beg you, don't let Satan win.
In my heart I knew this day would come,
But part of me, to this fact, was numb.
I am pierced by sorrow so deep and wide
Your cousin and I alone stand at your side.
My heart is broken on the altar of love
As my tears mix with the rain from above.
In an instant, I would trade my life for his.
I would die so that he might live.
But may it be done according to Your Will
You were my God, and you are still
My faith remains steadfast even in this darkest night
I believe that we will once again see your Holy Light

Amen

There is nothing greater than a mother's love
I'll move mountains, move heaven and earth
To comfort you and lift you up
To be there for you night and day
And if you are lost it will help you find your way
There is nothing fiercer than a mother's love
They'd do anything to keep their little one safe
They dry your tears and calm your fears
They hold you tight and make things alright
They share your joy and suffering
And they softly sing while you sleep
A song of love, asking the angels to watch and keep you safe
Till the light breaks forth in the eastern sky
To bathe the whole world in its soft yellow dye
There is nothing stronger than a mother's love
They are there when you need to sit in silence
Leave the door open and they will be with you
They know just what to say, they know your every need
They nurture and care and raise you up from the smallest seed
Until one day you bloom and grow beautiful strong and tall
You bring joy to their hearts every time you call
They love to listen, they give sage advice
A little of our time is their only price
There is nothing greater than a mother's love
There is nothing sweeter or more fine
There is nothing better than a mother's hug
And, somehow, they seem to have God's direct line
There is nothing greater than a mother's love
And none so great or perfect as our Heavenly Mother
She is the ladder between heaven and earth
For God became man through divine birth
How great was her love for her son
How great is her love for all of us
And nothing is greater that our mother's love

Lord, thank you for mothers. Our earthly mothers and our mother in heaven. They are such a blessing. You knew that as lost children, we would need a mother to care for us, to lead us and teach us. Thank you for our mothers, Lord. Help us to respect, cherish and honor them always and may we be a blessing to our mothers even as they have blessed us. We pray for those who are still with us and those who have gone before us to pray and intercede on our behalf. Mothers have a special place in your heart Oh Lord. Keep us close to yours. Amen

No matter what, in our lives, we do
Everything is better when I work with you
He created us to be together, created us to share
In His Glory and feel his presence everywhere
On our own, we try to create a song, a work of art
It's simple and awkward, but filled with such heart
We were not supposed to go it alone
But as iron sharpens iron to help and hone
We try to do the will of God
We try to hear what He is saying
Our attempts are small and feeble at best
But he sees us and quietly he smiles and nods
He whispers in our ear "Don't stop. Keep playing"
And transforms our sad solo into a divine duet

When we find ourselves taken by bitter sorrow
When we don't know if the sun will rise tomorrow
When we drink with Jesus the cup of suffering
When we think about his blood that is covering
When we recall the seven sorrows of Mary
And how, her son's lifeless body, she would carry
Midwives used myrrh against pain in childbirth
Mary, of all women, knew how much it is worth
Her very name is from Myrrh: meaning bitter
And through it all she wasn't a quitter
It is costly and rare, signifying suffering and death
But it is also used to prepare and purify
The bodies of those who had died
She shares our sorrows, and she dries our tears
She listens and prays for us; she understands our fears
We can run to our mother and be safe in her arms
To find healing and peace away from all that harms
She knows the value of suffering
And she knows just what it cost
A gift of love transcending everything
Her son hung on a rugged cross

Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Through our suffering, prepare our hearts and purify
That we might be an acceptable offering to God when we die
Take us back home to Heaven where we belong
When we are together, we are better; we are strong

On a church, Mother Mary gazes up high
with her saving babe on her stone arm.
On her alabaster face: a cryptic smile
that has its own fine chiseled charm.

While I stand in the old town’s cobblestone street,
my mind sees me in a far distant place.
The visions I see speak of defeat,
a void that devours all grace.

I see myself floating in a brittle wood boat
with sails torn to shreds by the storms.
Frantically I toil to stay afloat,
tossed by black waves which ebb and reform.

Her disk halo of gold shines out in the dark,
glinting to those who sail by.
I ask her: tell me what can give me a spark
to let me soar up into the sky.

She offers no answer in so many words
and just smiles on, stonily serene.
In her silence is where her answer is heard,
a quiet reply — I know just what she means.

The rock of her tells me what I must hear:
No need to soar nor fly nor flee.
Let black tides flow past me ‘til they clear.
Like this old pale statue, just simply be.

Agèd lady sits,
holding her silver and gold —
Anne, Mary, the Son

Anne’s daughter’s the moon,
sits on the throne of wisdom —
crowned in golden stars

Moon begets the Son
who’s fathered by breath of flame —
Both pierced by a spear

Two women, one son —
A motherly trinity
that shines in splendor

Hail Mary; most holy Queen of Heaven
Overshadowed by love's pure expression
Crowned with glory like the shining sun
Great mother of Jesus; the Most High one
Clothed in robes made from a sea of stars
You held the hands that bore the scars
Queen of the angels and of the saints
What stellar beauty Our Lady paints

Holy Mary crowned with glory
Bright shining as the sun
Queen of Mercy and of love
You crush the evil one
We are in your tenderness
In your kindness and endless grace
We are your children who you love to bless
And wrap with sweetest embrace
Gentle woman, blessed mother
Obedient to Our Father's will
Your faith in God was like no other
And that courage inspires still
Taken wholly up to Heaven
When this life on earth was through
Now we ask your intercession,
Pray for us in all we say and do
Dear mother by virtue of the union
Lead us to your son our Lord
That we too may live in communion
In that Life and Love outpoured

Mother of Mercy, channel of Grace
Wrap our hearts in thine embrace
Fount of Love and joyful giver
Bathe us in thy cleansing river
Help our hearts be as new fallen snow
And aid us so our holiness might grow
Pray to Jesus for us poor sinners
Open our hearts as we read the scriptures
May we show mercy to others
Treating all as sisters and brothers
Oh, source of help in our time of need
Hear us Oh Holy Mother and intercede
Help us each to pause, ponder, and reflect
On the moments of our lives in retrospect
To learn from, to cherish and to hold
To warm us when we are in the cold
Mother of Mercy grant us your peace
May our love for thee ever increase
Through the merits of thy maternal love
May it, now and always, ever be enough

In the ancient Gothic church
Mother Mary whispers here;
Her stony face looks out at me,
blank eyes that shed a granite tear:
There beneath her warming cloak
a mass of children huddle there,
seeking shelter and maternal love —
their fears and pains that she will bear
are lit by a sea of candlelight
that lifts cares hence, way up high,
borne aloft away from here,
to dissipate in distant skies