My Mother

Spent some time over the last few days visiting my parents. My mother never fails to amaze me. I thought about something I wrote on Mother’s Day about her…

She is a woman of faith and a prayer-warrior. When she goes to her knees, the powers of Hell grow uneasy.

She’s got the ear of the Almighty. I know her voice is familiar in the Throne room. When Paul writes that we are already seated in the heavenly places with Him, it seems strange, then I think of my mother. Yeah, she’s there. One foot in Mississippi red-dirt, one foot on Heaven’s pavement.

She has a steel backbone and a heart of gold. She never fears hard work and strides into life with a “a woman’s gotta’ do what a woman’s gotta’ do” attitude. Over the years, I’ve watched her take care of my brother, my dad and me with a degree of patience that could only come from Christ alone.

I’ve seen her fix fence, comfort the dying, love orphaned puppies, tend wounds, shave necks, shoot guns, wipe tears, write beautifully, speak gracefully, pray boldly, arrange flowers, cook meals, dispense justice, speak truth, and worship freely.

You never once forgot that she was, and is, a woman. She taught me that true femininity is always inseparable from strength as they are the same.

My prayer is that my future wife has a heart so strong, a faith so deep and a love so pure.

Having a child makes one a mother, but it’s a choice rooted in love to be a mama.

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