Of these four dear children of mine, three of them have blue eyes.
Blue eyes that they got from me, which I got from my daddy.
Mine have known a river of tears and it’s always been easy to let them fall.
Today, in the wee hours, before the hustle and bustle of the day,
I sit here quiet with eyes to the brim.
Thankful that most of all she knows the One who counts her tears and keeps them in a bottle.
Hoping she forgives this mother who fails and falters daily.
Praying she finds her purpose and peace in Christ and Him alone.
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I remember my daddy whistling this song while Willie sang.
Wish he were here tonight.
Clear eyes, full hearts!