People often ask me if I was born with this crazy faith. My response is always that I was not born with it but I was born into it. Allow me to explain. My lineage as far back as I can remember, four generations to be exact, were women born into extreme poverty and oppression. They grew up working in the cotton fields, living modestly with only their necessities. Most of them went on to marry abusive men and lived in perpetual oppression.
Raising their own children as well as others less fortunate, building careers with little to no education and later acquiring multiple degrees. Serving their communities and churches tirelessly. They suffered tragic losses of their homes, finances and even children in the most horrific ways. Yet, none of these women were angry, bitter or resentful. You would find them always busy, smiling, quoting scripture, and singing about God’s goodness in their lives. Their devotion to family, worship and serving others was non-negotiable. So, to answer the question with a question, who am I to live with any less gratitude? I count their examples of faith and resilience as my greatest generational blessing. I honor these faith giants on Mother’s Day and every day.