There ain’t nothing like being pulled out of your home culture to make you realize real fast just how you were raised. If I could have a dollar for every time on the race I’ve said “That’s how I was raised”, well. I could have gone on the race again.
“Train up a child in the way he should go, and he will not depart from it.”
My mom had this verse posted on our school room wall. It was one of many, our schoolroom was covered. It still is.
When people ask me, “Why do you love missions?” Or “Why did you decide to go into ministry?” My first answer is always that my mom prayed and desired that my 5 siblings and I would go to the nations with the gospel. She prayed that we would be missionaries because she couldn’t be. Then my parents raised us in a church that is crazy missions focused. My mom literally prayed and trained me for this life, even when I didn’t see it.
My mama raised me to be an includer. And you can ask my husband, I even invited people on our first date (grant it I didn’t know it was a date…but you see my point.) Even on the race, I have a hard time when people aren’t included. It is so far out of my sphere of thinking, I don’t understand why people don’t include others. I believe Jesus is an includer. Whoever wants to be close to Him, come on. Thanks mom.
My mama raised me to wash my face, brush my teeth, and brush my hair before heading out for the day. She instilled in me this desire to present myself as a temple of the Holy Spirit, and I had better present it cleanly.
My mama raised me to do everything, EVERYTHING, with excellence. That means my makeup, hair, marriage, ministry, friendships, dancing, literally anything. And when it isn’t excellent, I struggle and sometimes refuse to finish until it hits that standard. It’s not perfectionism, but it is doing everything in excellence for our Father.
My mama raised me to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. Growing up with 5 younger siblings isn’t comfy y’all. All six of us were in a room at one point in our childhood. I have been LITERALLY covered in my brothers throw up. I can remember being not completely full after dinner when we didn’t have a lot of food, and my mom hadn’t even eaten. And on the race, I just go with the flow (for the most part) with the uncomfortable.
My mama raised me to be a teacher of the word, but to also respect the men leading. I’m all about women in leadership (my godmother is a pastor, and she is one of very few role models and women I look up to), but I also know God has given our men something unique in how they lead. My mom taught me to be independent and search for truth on my own in the Word, and to cherish our men.
My mama raised me on good southern cookin’ and good southern’ music. Biscuits, sweet tea, and Dolly Parton. That’s how we do it.
My mama raised me to be a thriftier. I can shop a goodwill, outdoor international market, or mall and find the best deal, if not demand that deal. I can still remember one of the only times in my childhood that she ever bought me a brand new shirt. It was at Goody’s, and nothing on the clearance rack for me or I liked enough to wear for Easter. There had been a shirt in the front of the store I loved, and looked amazing on my awkward middle school body. She splurged and bought it for me. I STILL have and wear that shirt. Now, probably more than 10 years later, I realize she probably had to sacrifice something else for me to have that shirt. It makes me love it and can’t wait to get home to wear the shirt even more.
My mama raised me to let things go like water rolls off a ducks back. Petty drama isn’t worth it. And I honestly don’t get it most of the time.
My mama raised me not to care about peer pressure. This is another concept i don’t even recognize a lot of the time. But I think it built the strong, independent, challenging personality I have.
My mama raised me to love learning. And wow, I’m addicted.
And the last one, even though there’s more…my mama raised me to love. Jesus, my husband, my family, and the world. In the end, Love is what matters most.
Happy Mother’s Day mom.
