Mother Jacombs
My alternative mother
kept pace only with Jesus.
With a generosity of spirit
—unmatched in my life—
she adopted me into her family,
always asked if I wanted sustenance,
both spiritual as well as physical,
and never asked if I had a home
to go to.
In her old Housing Commission home
she sat in her chair in the loungeroom
and taught me, with a naked soul,
the abundance of the Christ,
the welcome of the Father,
and the wonders of the Spirit.
She taught me that we’re all on the path,
just in different places on it,
that there’s a place for everyone
in that household with many mansions,
maybe even for Judas.
Mother Jacombs was old, even ancient,
in her soul,
but youthful in her spirit,
elegant in her carriage,
and gleaming in her eye.
Mother Jacombs knew suffering,
knew gratefulness, knew humour.
Mother Jacombs knew Jesus
as nobody I knew ever did.
Mother Jacombs has ridden on,
to be with her Lord, forever.
We lift her up to Him, in honour of the goodness
and love we saw in her.
May her memory be for a blessing.
