Mother’s Day

A Faith Worth Passing On…

/ pastorlynnmalone / 2 Comments

This past week, I had the privilege of preaching my mother’s funeral.

There are some moments in life that are too important to keep to yourself.

For those who couldn’t be there… and for those who simply want to remember… I wanted to share what was said.

This isn’t just a message about my mom. It’s a message about the kind of faith that lasts.

Mom’s Funeral Message

I’ve told my congregations before that I was raised at the foot of a Methodist piano. When I said that, the story was usually about me… or my brothers. But today I realize—it was never about us. It was always about Mom. And more than that… it was really about Jesus. In a world that chases platforms and spotlights, Mom chose a piano bench.

Mom’s faith sat on that piano bench—Sunday after Sunday—for over 73 years. She once told me how it all started. Papaw had her taking piano lessons when she was nine years old. Then, one Sunday at Zoar Methodist Church—she had just turned ten—Papaw, who was leading the singing, looked at her and said, “Play.” She’s been playing ever since.

I started trying to name all the churches she played for. In those early days—Zoar and Mt. Pleasant. Later—Frantom Chapel, Concord… and of course, Chatham. And those were just the regular ones. There’s no telling how many times she filled in at other churches along the way.

Seventy-three years… Sunday after Sunday. That’s a lot of showing up.

Now here’s something you may not know. Mom was never very confident in her piano playing. I suppose that’s part of her humility. But she never let a lack of confidence keep her from obedience.

Because she didn’t see it as just playing for a church. She saw it as answering a call.

To my knowledge, she never received a salary from any church. She would occasionally accept a love offering, but she turned most of that back around to the church. For her, that piano bench became an altar. And every note she played was an act of worship.

If you want to understand what that looked like, let me show you.

There was a man in the community—I’ll leave his name out—who had pretty much become a hermit as he got older. For health reasons, he wouldn’t—or maybe couldn’t—leave the house for groceries or medicine. His home had become a mess—cluttered with trash, old rotting food, dogs. It had gotten so bad that eventually, even EMS stopped responding to his calls. Most people had pulled back.

You know who didn’t? Mom didn’t. She kept showing up. She would go to his house. She would take him food. She would help however she could.

And if we’re being honest… some of us didn’t understand it. Some of us probably wondered if he was taking advantage of her. But that didn’t seem to matter to her. She didn’t see him the way others saw him. She saw someone who needed help. And she showed up.

That’s the kind of faith she had. It didn’t wait until it was convenient. It didn’t wait until it was appreciated. It just showed up. The truth is… that kind of life doesn’t come from nowhere. It comes from walking with Jesus. Because if you’ve read the Gospels… you’ve seen that kind of life before.

Jesus said in Matthew 25, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these… you did for me.” I don’t know that Mom ever stood up and quoted that verse. Truth is, I don’t remember her quoting much Scripture at all. She didn’t have to. She lived it. When she showed up at that house… she wasn’t just helping a man in need. She was serving her Savior. That’s how she served.

Her faith also showed up for her family. After Tommy died, Mom started a Saturday morning breakfast tradition. I’m a little jealous that Ben and Shawn got the early years, but I was thrilled when we moved closer and I could join in. I’d rise early and head to Chatham—not for toast and jelly, but for homemade buttermilk biscuits, pancakes, stove-cooked grits with a stick of butter melting on top, scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon. Real, stick-to-your-ribs food.

We’d gather around the table. Sometimes one of us alone. Sometimes two of us. Sometimes all three. Sometimes with our spouses. Other times with our children. But every time with Mom. Many times Uncle Benny would come down for coffee and a visit. Other times friends and extended family were offered the invitation. Rarely was it ever declined.

Over the years, Mom’s Saturday morning breakfast became legendary. It was the envy of all who knew about it. We’d gather around the table… and there was a sacredness to it. It was rhythm. It was formation. Biscuits and sausage and grits wasn’t just food to Mom. It was glue. Glue that held us together.

Yes, it was glue, but more than that, it was the way she loved us.

She was not an extrovert—and that is an understatement. You would think someone who spent over 25 years serving the public every day as Postmaster would be a strong personality. No. Not Mom. She was perhaps one of the most unassuming people I’ve ever known. But what she did was love deeply and serve greatly, quietly, faithfully.

I’ve known that love my whole life. Vanessa was going through Mom’s things the other day when she came across the bottom third of a loose-leaf sheet of paper folded neatly in a small wooden box. When she unfolded it she saw the words “From Bubba to Mother.” On the right-hand side were these words:

The sea lies peaceful and calm; Your fortune lies upon your palm. There are doctors with all kinds of cures, But no love sweeter than yours.

A simple little poem written by her son. Honestly, I have no memory of ever writing it. But it meant something to her, and now it means something to me. It means the love I knew all my life was real, deep, and abiding. Who keeps a child’s poem on loose-leaf paper for fifty years or more? Mom, that’s who.

Here’s what I’ve come to understand. That kind of love—the kind that makes an altar out of a piano bench, the kind that serves the least of these, the kind that makes glue with biscuits and sausage—that doesn’t just happen. That kind of life is formed over time. It’s formed in quiet moments… in unseen choices… in a steady walk. Because the truth is—Mom didn’t just believe in Jesus. She walked with Him.

That’s the Jesus who shaped her life. And that’s the Jesus who has now received her. Mom’s life wasn’t built on being a good person trying hard. It was built on a Savior who loved her first. A Savior who gave His life for her. A Savior who rose again—so that death would not have the last word. Because of Jesus… this is not goodbye. It’s goodbye for now.

The question that sits quietly in front of all of us today is this: What are we going to do with the life we’ve been given? Because the same Jesus Mom walked with is still calling people to follow Him—to live that same kind of life: A life that shows up… A life that serves… A life that loves.That was her life. Not loud. Not flashy. Simply faithful. In the end, that’s a life that matters.

I’m grateful for the faith she lived…and the Savior who made it possible.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Happy Mother’s Day…

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

Let me go ahead and say it, “Happy Mother’s Day!” to all the moms out there. What in the world would we do without you?

Apparently, it’s uncouth to say it or celebrate it in today’s culture because some mothers have failed at being good mothers, or because some children are estranged from their mothers, or because of the grief and pain that comes in having lost a mother or a mother having lost children. And, we shouldn’t forget those who always wanted to be mothers and couldn’t, for whatever reason. For all these (and more), Mother’s Day is just too triggering, so we should simply forego the occasion.

Oh! Let’s also not forget that it’s also become such a Hallmark holiday that it should be shunned so as not to make big corporations any richer. Yup! There’s that!

With all the sincerity I can muster, I say to all of those persons–“I’m sorry for your loss, or for your experience. I truly am. I pray that you can find peace on your journey, and that the Lord gives you strength for each day.”

A Tragic Story of Motherhood

At the same time, I’m going to say, “Happy Mother’s Day!” to all those moms who have faithfully served their children and their families. You’ve got the toughest job in the world, and the overwhelming majority of you do it with strength, concern, wisdom and courage.

Strength. Concern. Wisdom. Courage. Four characteristics of faithful mothers that I actually find lived out in the life of a mother that were born of tragic circumstances, and out of those tragic circumstances came the Savior of the world. Yes, I’m thinking about Ruth in the Old Testament.

Tucked away in the Old Testament between Judges and 1 Samuel is the compelling story of Ruth, and her place in the lineage of Jesus. Equally compelling is the story of Ruth’s mother-in-law in surviving tragic events in her life to play her part in setting the stage for the coming of God’s Kingdom. It is to Naomi that I look this morning as I reflect on mothers this Mother’s Day.

Naomi’s story begins in tragedy:

1 In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land. So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab. 2 The man’s name was Elimelek, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Kilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem,Judah. And they went to Moab and lived there. (Ruth 1:1-2 NIV)

Naomi and her family depart Bethlehem (the house of bread) because there is no bread. Worse still, they go to Moab–called “God’s washbasin” by the Psalmist (108:9). Not a great move, but in hard times, you do what you need to do.

Add to the fact this was happening during the period of the Judges, the writer seems to indicate that not only was it a time of literal famine, but also during a time of spiritual famine. Remember what it says in Judges 21:25? “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.”

But, there is more tragedy revealed in these opening words. Her two sons? Mahlon and Killion? Yeah, their names mean “sickly” and “puny.” Not what you would call model circumstances for the model family.

The tragedy ain’t over, either. They get to Moab and her husband (Elimelech) dies. Naomi, in a strange land and with no support network, loses her husband and is left with her sickly son and her puny son. Can things get any worse?

4 They married Moabite women, one named Orpah and the other Ruth (Ruth 1:4a NIV).

Yup! They married Moabite women, thus breaking Jewish law. Tragedy on top of tragedy on top of tragedy. But, that’s not all the tragedy:

After they had lived there about ten years, 5 both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband (Ruth 1:4b-5 NIV).

Now, without her sons, Naomi is left to fend for herself and her two daughters-in-law…in a foreign country, no less. She decides she has no way of supporting herself in a strange land, so she determines to return to Bethlehem. We discover Naomi’s grace in her willingness to release Oprah and Ruth from their obligation to her (Ruth 1:8).

She was doing what mothers do: making the sacrifice for the betterment of her children.

Oprah chose to return to her family of origin, but Ruth chose to stay with Naomi, and in so doing, gives us one of the most moving passages in the Bible:

16 But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. 17 Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me” (Ruth 1: 16-17 NIV).

Naomi and Ruth make their return to Bethlehem, and upon their arrival, Naomi, in true motherly fashion, sums up her life:

20 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. 21 I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me” (Ruth 1:20-21 NIV).

Grace Born in Tragedy

A tragic life borne of tragic circumstances that has brought some bitterness in her life. Yes to all of that, but I see strength and concern and wisdom and courage all along the way.

The author gives no indication that Naomi displays any grief. They only reflect that Naomi bore her pain and went on with life. Isn’t that what good mothers do? They get up and go on, and that takes incredible strength.

A Mother’s Strength

A mother’s strength is a mystery to us. It is such a mystery that the Jewish people have a proverb that says, “God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers.”

It took a strong woman to endure the circumstances that life had thrown Naomi’s way, and to encourage her daughters-in-law to return to their people. Our mothers…good and faithful mothers…are strong women–perhaps the strongest.

A Mother’s Concern

I also see a mother’s concern for her children in this unfolding tragedy. Naomi, knowing that she could not care for the spiritual, emotional or physical needs of Orpah and Ruth, was willing to forego her own happiness in favor of theirs. These two young ladies were the only connection she had left to her family, but she was willing to make the sacrifice.

Isn’t that just like a good mother? Always sacrificing her own needs for the needs of her children. That is what good mothers do.

Focus on the Family shared the story of 36-year-old Kara Tippet who was diagnosed with terminal cancer. One doctor told her to spend her remaining days enjoying the beach somewhere, while a second doctor offered to extend her life by a couple of years with some grueling treatments. She chose the treatments, writing these words to her children:

“I’ve chosen to try to survive for you. This has some horrible costs, including pain, loss of my good humor, and moods I won’t be able to control. But I must try this, if only on the outside chance that I might live one minute longer. And that minute could the be one you might need me when no one else will do. For this I intend to struggle, tooth and nail, so help me God.”

Actually, a good godly mother never surrenders her happiness for her children because her happiness comes from seeing the eyes of her child light up when she is there for him or her, no matter the cost to herself. That’s because they are concerned for their children.

A Mother’s Wisdom

A good mother is also so wise, and I see that wisdom reflected in Naomi. Mothers have an uncanny knack for knowing the right thing to say at the right time, or for knowing when to not say anything at all. Naomi’s wisdom is revealed in verse 18: “When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.”

Mom’s always know just what to do in those difficult and confusing situations of life. The Lord has granted most of our moms great wisdom, and for that we celebrate them.

A Mother’s Courage

I also see a mother’s courage reflected in Naomi’s life. What great courage it took for Naomi (which actually means “pleasantness”) to continue on with life even though it had become quite “bitter.” Mothers often appear to be superhuman, but they are not. Mothers have needs, too, but we too often fail to recognize them.

The courage of a mother allows her to hide those needs deep within her own self because she knows the high calling and hard task that God has given her. Can’t we, for just one day a year, take the time to recognize that moms have needs, too? I believe it is certainly okay to do so, even if it is triggering for some. Moms, most moms, are courageous, and for that we celebrate.

Let me close with a quote from Chuck Swindoll on the debt we owe to our mothers. Though it doesn’t apply to all mothers everywhere, it certainly applies to most mothers–the very one who made your life possible.

“Dear Mom:

As I walk through my museum of memories,

I owe you—for your time. Day and night.

I owe you—for your example. Consistent and dependable.

I owe you—for your support. Stimulating and challenging.

I owe you—for your humor. Sparky and quick.

I owe you—for your counsel. Wise and quiet.

I owe you—for your humility. Genuine and gracious.

I owe you—for your hospitality. Smiling and warm.

I owe you—for your insight. Keen and honest.

I owe you—for your flexibility. Patient and joyful.

I owe you—for your sacrifices. Numerous and quickly forgotten.

I owe you—for your faith. Solid and sure.

I owe you—for your hope. Ceaseless and indestructible.

I owe you—for your love. Devoted and deep.”

Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms–especially to Sonda Womack and Vanessa Malone. Your great strength, concern, wisdom and courage are shining examples of faithfulness for all your children.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Honoring Mothers: Faithful Women Who Shape Our Lives

/ pastorlynnmalone / 1 Comment

Happy Mother’s Day! Let me take a few lines on this special day to say “Thank you!” to the mothers in my life, and to all mothers everywhere. None of us (and I mean literally none of us) would be who we are without our mothers (for better or worse).

I say “for better or worse,” because I know not everyone has been blessed with incredible examples of motherhood in their lives, and that is truly unfortunate. I, on the other hand, have been blessed beyond measure with those mothers who are shining examples of what it means to be a mother.

Great is Thy Faithfulness

I tell folks that I was raised at the foot of a Methodist piano. My mother, Sonda Womack, played piano for three Methodist churches in our home area. She rode the circuit just like the circuit rider preacher every Sunday so that those congregations had the benefit of music in worship. Most Sundays, my brothers and I had to make that circuit with her, and there we would sit, often listening to the same sermon three times (talk about insufferable!) just for the opportunity to make it to the “big” church so we could be with all our friends.

I didn’t necessarily enjoy all that time at the foot of a Methodist piano, but her faithfulness in serving the Lord by serving those congregations gave me an early example of what discipleship and servanthood looks like. Being an accompanist for all those years was ministry for her. I know that because she was never paid a salary by any of those churches. Yes, there were frequent love offerings the congregations shared, but she never “charged” for her services. It was a gift of love to the Lord.

Her faithfulness shaped me and my brothers. Of that, I have no doubt. She was, for much of our early years, a single mom. She worked long, hard hours to insure that we had what we needed…not always what we wanted…but always what we needed. I can remember her working three jobs when we were little. She worked at the local bank. She would leave that job and head to the local post office where she was a part-time flexible worker. And, if you think playing piano at three churches on Sunday morning isn’t work (whether you’re paid or not), well you’ve got another think coming.

Even now, into her 80’s, she continues to serve two congregations through her gift of music. Still riding the circuit after all these years!

She was, and is, an example of faith and faithfulness and love for which I am forever grateful. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

The Heart of Our Family

Let me tell you something else. When I married, I married up. I mean I married way up! My wife, Vanessa, is the most amazing mother I know (my own mother notwithstanding). Vanessa has throughout our lives together demonstrated the sacrificial love of Jesus in the most profound of ways. I honestly believe that she was born to be a mother…and grandmother.

I have spent the last forty years watching her nurture our children and grandchildren. I can tell you that she raised our children while I was off going to school and pastoring churches and chasing dreams. Anything good our children have attained or become can be credited to her love and diligence in caring for them.

Raising our children was never a sacrifice for her. It was her gift. She was, for many years, the nurturer, the care-giver, the chauffeur, the cook, the cleaner, the confidant, the disciplinarian, the encourager, the helper and the friend to all four of our children, and she has quickly become that to our grandchildren, too. I might also add, she is all those things to me as a spouse. She is my best friend, and I’m not so sure our children wouldn’t also call her their best friend, either.

She is amazing and beautiful and funny and sacrificial and loving. Try as I might, there really aren’t words to describe what she is to me and to our family. She is the heart and soul of who we are as a family. Happy Mother’s Day, Vanessa!

An Enduring Legacy of Love

The examples of love and sacrifice goes back beyond our present generation. My grandmothers…well…what can I say about them?

My maternal grandmother, Aline Johnson Roberts, demonstrated for me how to serve your spouse. My Papaw lived with rheumatoid arthritis for as long as I have any memory of him. He was bedridden for most of later years of life. Mamaw never left his side.

Everyday, she busied herself waiting on him hand and foot. I never once heard her complain (and mind you, my brothers and I lived with them for several years) about his illness, or the necessity of her caring for him. She did it out of love. She did it out of compassion. And, that was after raising ten children and dealing with 18 (I think) grandchildren (nine of which either lived with them or next door to them).

She remains an example of self-giving love that demonstrates the heart of motherhood. Happy heavenly Mother’s Day, Mamaw!

My paternal grandmother, Kittie Oxford Malone, is a saint if there ever was one. We called her “Mama Kit.” Mama Kit earned her sainthood by putting up with my grandfather, my dad and my uncle. Don’t misunderstand me. I love all three of those men dearly, but they could be…oh, let’s just say…challenging to live with (that’s all I’ll say about that!).

When Vanessa and I married, we moved into her backyard. There we started raising our family. She was there when all our children were born. She was the go-to babysitter for our children. Every afternoon when the kids would arrive home from school, their first stop was usually her house. She generally had cheese toast or cinnamon toast prepared for them when they arrived.

She would spend countless hours reading to our oldest daughter and as she would read she would gently rub our daughter’s back. Our oldest daughter is her namesake, and I honestly think she still misses those back rubs today.

We discovered when ministry called us to Kentucky for seminary, that the worst part was not having Mama Kit to care for us from our backyard. Yes, we missed all our family, but not in the same way we missed Mama Kit. I only wish my grandchildren would have had the opportunity to know Mama Kit.

Mama Kit gave me an example of perseverance in the face of adversity, of commitment to life-long marriage and of selfless love. I am blessed to have her as part of the legacy of faithful motherhood in my live. Happy heavenly Mother’s Day, Mama Kit.

Thank You Mothers!

There are so many more memories and reflections I could share, but this is a long post already. Thank you for indulging me in this overly personal blog. And, thank you to all the mothers that we celebrate on this Mother’s Day.

If your mother is still with you, give thanks to God for her and make sure she knows how much you appreciate her. If your mother is no longer alive, then simply give thanks to God for the memories of love and faithfulness you have.

If you have no good memories of your own mother, can you at least be grateful to God that she gave you life? That is a gift unto itself and you should be grateful.

So, Happy Mother’s Day to all our mothers and grandmothers. May God bless you all on this special day.

Until next time, keep looking up…