FMF: What My Mamas Did

Left to Right:  Mama Missy, T.C. (my husband) Me and Mama Sonja

Osheta Where Art Thou?  Dealing with kids all week long for February vacation week!  Y'all don't know how many times I tried to sit down to write a blog post only to get pulled away by "MOOOOOOOOOM!" from one of my kids.  Always angered by a sibling.  Always seeking justice. Almost always bored out of their mind.  So, epic blogger fail this week. Epic mom, success though we've had playdates, bike rides, movie viewings, library trips, and a "Hail Mary" McDonald's Playplace visit. 

So when Lisa-Jo shared earlier this week that our five minute prompt would be on "what our mamas did for us", I wanted to give her a virtual fist bump.  I had all week to think about this and then I could use my five minutes to write, no over-thinking, no over-editing, just writing for the pure joy (and me-time this week) of writing.  

Today's my anniversary, so my memory of mamas on my wedding day is forefront on my mind...

What My Mamas Did

Start: 

Hillary Rodham Clinton said it takes a village to raise a child.  Whether or not you believe her work caring for African children and learning from their tribes was what inspired this quote —it's been true for me because I’ve been raised by a village of virtuous women who define my concept of “mama”.

From my birth mama, Sonja to my God-Mama Missy, God set this lonely girl into a village of “mamas”. So today I can’t write about what “mama” did, I have to write about what my “Mamas” did. 

I have never seen the gifted women God placed in my life set loose to put their virtue on display more than on my wedding day.  Spearheaded by my biological Mama, Sonja and my God-mother Missy, these women showed me the power of female, Christian community. 

Mama Sandy gave me the best marriage advice I could have ever received, “Osheta do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” Her example of wisdom has made me a better listener and peacemaker.

Mama Saralilly made pans and pans of Jambalaya so we wouldn’t have to pay for a caterer.  Every bite we took, whispered, “I love you. I’m proud of you.  I’m here for you”.  Her hospitality taught me the power of feeding the hungry.

Mama Heather held me close to her and prayed into my ear that God would guide T.C. and me as couple into a ministry that would unify us as a team. She stood by me as my matron of honor, praying and crying because she knew the long road I walked to get to that moment.   Her example of solidarity in the storm has helped me care for the oppressed and weary.

Mama Sonja ran me a bath the perfect temperature, with bubbles and my book waiting to help me relax the night before my wedding —humming and bustling around my tiny apartment, making sure my bags were packed, my fridge cleaned out, and my wedding dress laid out for the next day.   Her example of a strong work ethic and loving management of people has given me confidence that maybe, just maybe this church plant might work. 

Mama Missy put a strand of pearls around my neck, hugged me close, and told me I was beautiful.  This woman who has far more worth pearls, diamond, or as Proverbs say, rubies taught me to how to seek God when I was just a young girl.  Every word she uttered to me, every act of love she demonstrated, every hug, wink, greeting card, or trip to Sonic for a lemon-berry slushy was a spiritual pearl strung on a necklace that I proudly wear upon my neck now.  She is the woman of faith I want to be when I grow up.

So as I think about my anniversary today, I remember the love I shared with my husband, the vows we spoke, and the victory we celebrated finally making it to the alter, but I also remember my “Mamas”— the village of virtuous women who help form the woman I am today.

That’s what my Mamas did.

Stop

Mama Sonja, T.C. and Me

Wanna join in the mom-loving fun?

From Lisa-Jo's site:

What did your mama do that makes her your mama? Let’s unpack those memories today. Let’s trace our fingers along the lines of the unexpected. The ordinary beauty in a day of motherhood. The food or the laughing or the dancing or the story telling.

Where is your memory buried?

In just five minutes. Tell me all about what your mama did that made her yours….{and don’t forget to spend some time commenting on the post of the person who linked up just before you}

Looking for more stories about spiritual mothers? Click the image to vist Sarah Bessey's  blog.  She's  collecting stories of spiritual midwives and Patron Saints to celebrate International Women's Day on March 8. This is an awesomely inspring link up! Keep your tissues handy, sisters!