Missionary Mom

This is a poem Jason wrote for me awhile back. It means a lot now, so I'll share it.

Well Prepared Young Man
A young man walks the streets of town, going anywhere
The name of Christ upon his chest, his shoes are full of wear
His coat once warm and lined with fun, is now a tattered mess
His pants are faded, grayer now, his shirt in need of press
His eyes are filled with confidence of things he knows are ture
And in his hand are words of God well marked in red and blue
To you he seems as just another disciple God's employed
But beneath the tired uniform is a well-trained mother's boy
The name of Christ upon his chest is not to be alone
For also is another name this man is to be known
This name is not known by all, like the Son of God's
It is the name of this boy's father as he sent his son abroad
The coat upon his shoulders now useless from the years
Was once soaked around this head from his Mother's tears
His pants now gray and labored thin were once black and hemmed up stong
The effort of a mother to insure they would be long
This man knows the gospels real' it's truths he will decree
He is trained to teach the people what he learned on Mother's knee
His scrptures seem to be no good; the pages are in need
Of Mothers gentle touch as they would sit each night and read
This Missionary, to you may look as just another one
But I am proud to serve the Lord as my Mother's Son.