The length of our days is seventy years—

or eighty, if we have the strength;

Teach us to number our days aright,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,

that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.1

How shall I count, how calculate

The worth of days gone by?
Shall I take pages from a diary
And total up the words?
Shall I take numbers from the year
I was born?

This is how I will count:

I will remember the hours of childhood
Spent in simple amusement or play.
I will recall joys past – when birthdays
Were treasured and desired.
I will bring to mind the hours
Spent in caring for my babies.
I will calculate the impossible worth
Of being with my children!

Oh – I will remember hard times –

But only to provide a backdrop
For the special moments of shared joy.

I will evaluate my days through their eyes

Who know my mother-love.
Phrases like:
“love you to bits” and “bestest Mum”
And “Thanks!”
And poems written like this one –
To celebrate what I cannot calculate –
My influence for love and God;
My Sunday school classes and
The witness of a life with Jesus.

I will not dwell on the dark days

Though they crowd me with their shadows!
I will not forget – but I will discount
Them against the worthiest and the best!

I will recall a journey in deep snow;

1
Psalm 90
A small flat that was my own;
I will revisit places that mark the progress of my years –
Bridgewater, Wells, Vancouver and the USA.

I will add birds in my garden – and

Woodpeckers, kingfishers, tree-creepers
And dippers –
These will remind me how to count;
They will sing in recognised phrases
That they love life – and God!

And, though clouds and darkness come;

Though harsh reflections steal my sleep –
I will arise and thank my God
Who made me and decides my days.
I will reach out to hold His hand
Who best considers my times –

My times are in His hands!

Written by Dad on the morning of Mum’s seventieth birthday, 2009