The experience of childbirth made me grow up a lot. After my son was born, it was my mother who brought him to me. I took one look at him, just as I did his brother years later, and began to consider what type of life they would lead. I thought about whom they were and who they would become. I dreamed for them. I hoped for them. I held them in my arms and I visualized the life they would live and the lives they would touch. Would they become doctors, lawyers, teachers? Or would they be dropouts living on welfare. When I looked at them, I counted more than fingers and toes, I counted the people they would become some day.
I realized that everything concerning them depended on the sermon that my life would preach. Each scripture would be written by the words I spoke, the experiences I encountered, and the circumstances I overcame. As each chapter unfolded I was determined it would have a happy ending. Their births were the Genesis and if Revelation was to end triumphantly, I needed to be their savior here on Earth.
During the birth of my sons, as always my mother was right there. Curled up in the corner of the room I could see her face from the corner of my eye. It was wrinkled up like a prune as she stood grunting with each grueling push that I made.
We made eye contact, but we never said a word. We didn’t have to. Her face said it all. Her calling to the ministry of motherhood had come full circle. Her baby was now having a baby. Her display of love on this day was like a sermon. It’s title, unconditional love. This message would stay with me all the days of my life.
My mother has always been a special person. She remarried when I was seven years old, but she always took full responsibility for my sister and me. The thing I love most about her is her faith in God. I loved sitting beside her and listening to her tell stories about her childhood and the Bible when I was a little girl. I know most of them by heart. When she tells a story she always has a captive audience. It’s at these moments her strength and faith are at their best. Through her, I learned of her life struggles and disappointments. I learned why she believed God no matter what. Her faith is the foundation I stood on when I became a mother. It is the foundation I stand on now. My Mama’s faith is the weapon that I have learned to use. I cling to it when life gets hard. Without faith and my Mama, who knows where I’d be.
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