My Family Praises The Lord
God's Littlest Angels
Home
ANGELS AMONG US
Living With Depression
Just a few Bible Verses
Inspirational page
About Me
THROUGH HIM ALL PAIN CEASES
GOD'S PRECIOUS CHILDREN
God's Littlest Angels
Family Photo Album
Favorite Links
Arts and Crafts
Contact Me

click here to play sound

John Wesley Mills and Samantha Ditto

barbie1.jpg

barbie1.jpg

John Wesley Mills
December 12, 1983-February 6, 1984

The Lord works in wonderful ways...Thanks to Valerie Lundberg I have the words to the poem that was read at John's funeral....Thanks a ton Valerie.



Do not stand by my grave and weep.

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am a diamond glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle Autumn rain.

When you awake in the morning hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star shine at night.

Do not stand by my grave and cry.

I am not there ...... I did not die

This page is in loving memory of my son, John Wesley Mills. He came to us on a cold winter morning in 1983 and left us on a colder winter morning in February of 1984. John was born in Odessa Medical Center in Odessa Texas and weighed in at 6 lbs and 15 oz. He was a wonderful baby that seldom cried and always seemed very happy. After Lisa, my first born, John was like having a first baby. Lisa was sick a bit when she was an infant, so caring for a healthy baby seemed to be a breeze. John was just getting to the point of holding his head up on his own..but he did have a wonderful laugh and a gorgeous smile.
I shall never forget the night he left to go to the Father. That night will be forever etched in my memory as if it were only yesterday, although it will soon be 17 years.
I had to get ready for work, I worked the night shift at a local restaurant. My then husband was feeding John his meal of sweet potatoes and hawaiian delight (his two favorite foods). I will never forget how hard we laughed when John balled up his fist and let out a howl if Randy did not get the food to his mouth fast enough. That would be the last time I was to see my son alive.
Around 2 a.m. on the morning of the 6th of February I came home. It was a slow night at work so I was cut early. On the way home I had stopped at a supermarket to pick up a couple of steaks and some more formula and diapers for the baby. When I got home, Randy was asleep on the couch and the television was blaring away (very typical of him). I remember tuning into the PTL Club and then putting the groceries away. I then went into the living room, which also served as my bedroom and the baby's room, as we had 6 kids and lived in a 2 bedroom trailer. I remember looking down on John and thinking something didn't seem right. I also remember picking him up and realizing that he was dead. What I do not remember is whether I dropped him into his bassinet or whether or not I placed him there..but I do remember screaming as I have never screamed before or since. The rest of the morning went by in a blurry slow motion way. The doctor's telling us they could not save him..the phone call to my grandmother..the ride to my mom's house..all are blurry memories. Planning the funeral was extremely difficult...a parent is NOT supposed to bury her own right? I was fine till it came to picking out his casket, I never imagined them being so small. I picked out a baby blue casket and then went home.
Later that evening, at the funeral home, I held my son for the very last time. There was a rocker in the viewing room and I picked him up out of the casket, sat down in the chair and sang him a lullaby for the very last time. After he was placed back in the casket by the funeral director (I could not do this myself), I placed his teddy bear in there with him and that was the last I saw of him.
His funeral was on the 7th of February, graveside and closed casket. The preacher, Brother Butch from the First Nazerene Church in Odessa, proceeded over the service. His wife sang a beautiful song, the title escapes me, and then read a beautiful poem, of which I would give an eye's tooth to find a copy of... the name of the poem was "Do not stand by my grave and weep"
Although he has been gone these 17 years, I still miss him terribly and weep for him on his birthday and the anniversary of his death. I also celebrate his life by holding him in my heart.
The greatest tribute by far was when my daughter Peggi gave her son the middle name of Wesley, after his long gone, but never forgotten uncle

POEM TO ALL PARENTS

ILL LEND YOU FOR A LITTLE WHILE
A CHILD OF MINE, HE SAID,
FOR YOU TO LOVE THE WHILE HE LIVES
AND MOURN FOR WHEN HES GONE.
IT MAY BE TWO OR SEVEN YEARS,
OR TWENTY TWO OR THREE,
BUT WILL YOU TILL I CALL HIM BACK
TAKE CARE OF HIM FOR ME?
HELL BRING HIS CHARMS TO GLADDEN YOU
AND SHOULD HIS STAY BE BRIEF
YOULL HAVE HIS LOVELY MEMORIES
AND SOLACE FOR YOUR GRIEF.

I CANNOT PROMISE HE WILL STAY
SINCE ALL FROM EARTH RETURN
BUT THERE ARE LESSONS TAUGHT DOWN THERE
I WANT THIS CHILD TO LEARN.
IVE LOOKED THE WIDE WORLD OVER
IN MY SEARCH FOR TEACHERS TRUE,
AND FROM THE THRONGS THAT CROWD LIFE LOVED
I HAVE SELECTED YOU.
NOW WILL YOU GIVE HIM ALL YOUR LOVE,
NOR THINK THE LABOR VAIN,
NOR HATE ME WHEN I COME TO CALL
TO TAKE HIM BACK AGAIN?

I FANCIED THAT I HEARD THEM SAY
DEAR LORD THY WILL BE DONE.
FOR ALL THE JOY THY CHILD SHALL BRING
THE RISK OF GRIEF WELL RUN.
WELL SHELTER HIM WITH TENDER CARE,
WELL LOVE HIM WHILE WE MAY
AND FOR THE HAPPINESS WEVE KNOWN,
FOREVER GRATEFUL STAY.
BUT SHOULD THE ANGELS CALL FOR HIM
MUCH SOONER THAN WED PLANNED
WELL BRAVE THE BITTER GRIEF THAT COME
AND TRY TO UNDERSTAND.

My First Christmas In Heaven


I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
With tiny lights, like Heaven's stars, reflecting on the snow
The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.
I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart
But I am not so far away, We really aren't apart.
So be happy for me, dear ones, You know I hold you dear.
And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I sent you each a special gift, from my heavenly home above.
I sent you each a memory of my undying love.
After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold.

It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.
Please love and keep each other, as my Father said to do.
For I can't count the blessing or love he has for each of you.
So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear
Remember, I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.



This poem was written by a 13 year old boy who died of a brain tumor that he had battled four years. He died on December 14, 1997. He gave this to his mom before he died. His name was Ben.



Enter supporting content here