A Love Like No Other – The Love of a Mother

Today isn’t Mother’s Day, but mothers are on my mind and I’d like to tell you why. 

Yesterday as we sat in a waiting room biding our time, my mom recounted to me what she had told my daughters. She told them about life. She told them about God and her faith in Him. She told them about me and the first time she saw me. 

As I watched her face as she repeated what I’ve heard many times before, her eyes shone with the memories of love and astonished wonder. 

“I just couldn’t believe it. How could a baby of mine be so beautiful, so perfect. I cried and cried. I counted your toes and fingers. You were perfect.”

As I listened I thought the real wonder of this story was the depth of a mother’s love. I also thought it was a great blessing to have been loved with such a love. 


Earlier this week, I told my soon-to-be daughter-in-law about the first time I saw my son whom she will wed. My tale was different. No one placed him in my arms as a newborn. But still, the wonder was just as well, wonderful, when he came into our life. I think she understood clearly the depth of my love for him. 

A few days ago I read a post by a young momma. “What was life before him?” She referred to her newborn son. I knew just what she meant. 


Two days ago my sister-in-law flew across the ‘big pond’ to see her baby and her grandbabies, one of whom is one-week old. That love and hope of brighter tomorrows has kept her moving forward lately through a difficult season. 

My FB feed is filled with new babies and the love in each of these little momma’s faces is apparent. They often use words like perfect. They’re all right of course. 


And then of course, there are the mommas who have adopted and have felt the flavor of wonderment that floods my own soul. I can’t help but rejoice with them as each milestone is poated and celebrated. There are the mommas who have fostered and there are mommas-in-waiting. Mommas are lovely, altogether lovely. 


And don’t even get me started on grand-mommas. My own grandmother was such a treasured and influential part of my childhood, I can’t put it into words. She absolutely helped form me into who I am today. No doubt. I grew to see myself through her eyes, eyes filled with love. 

My sister is experiencing the joys of being a grandmother. One born just weeks ago, another due in a few weeks. Her whole world has shifted in anticipation of this new season of wonder. 

It’s no surprise that I have enjoyed being Grandmommy to three little girls in Georgia who are just the sweetest princesses around! If you aren’t sure about that, just ask me and I’ll do my best to convince you. They aren’t my conventional grandchildren. I’m not the conventional sort. But I have claimed them and they have claimed me and love has sealed the deal. 


No matter how God gave us our children and grandchildren, the thing is, He gave them to us. They are gifts. The love we have for them just seeps out of our souls. 

“Wait a minute there, my experience wasn’t like this.” This may be what a few of you are thinking and I know it’s the truth. You know, as a foster-mom, I sometimes witnessed the worst examples of motherhood. Not every case, but many cases involved mothers who weren’t loving the way they should or maybe the way they truly wanted to. I know that plenty of mommas are selfish, bad-tempered, critical, and hurtful. That’s a shame. But those aren’t the mommas I’m thinking of this morning. 


I’m thinking of mommas who have influenced our lives for the good, been our personal cheerleader, gave us courage to do better and be better. I’m thinking about mommas who adjust their lives, postpone their dreams, set aside plans, and invest themselves into their children. I’m thinking about mommas who have prayed and are still praying. I’m thinking about mommas who have had to overcome adversity, struggle financially, and press on when they wanted to sit down. I’m thinking about mommas who have loved with great abandon and are ready to keep loving not only their children and their children’s children, but theirs great and great-great-grandchildren. 


This morning, mommas are on my mind and I just wanted to tell you why. 

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The Most Influential Women in the World

I am able to trace back my maternal genealogy an impressive distance. My personal experience and knowledge begins with my maternal great-grandmother, Ruthie Mae McDonald Smith. I am glad to have known her as a young girl. I have glimpses of who she was, who she became. Recently, I feel that I’ve grown to know her more intimately as I’ve begun in depth research preparing for a historical narrative I am writing. 

Here is a photo of her with her husband, my great-grandfather and her five oldest children. The oldest girl, is my own grandmother, Alvis Yvone Smith (later to become a DeMoss). 


In this photo as I study my great-grandmother’s face, I can imagine she was so proud and probably so tired. Life was hard, physically hard nearly a century ago. She could not have seen what the future would hold, the tragedy, the grief, the heartache and surely the nightmares. She could not have known that three of her children in this photograph would become part of history, part of the worst school related disaster our nation has ever known. 


The New London School Explosion would destroy more than a building. It destroyed lives, families and the hopes and dreams of many mothers. Only moments before dismissal a gas explosion claimed hundreds of children and many of their teachers. 

I didn’t know her before of course, but my grandmother told me that her momma was never the same again. She never quite recovered. And yet, she continued to mother. She would birth four more children and live a long life. She would become the woman I remember, always appearing a little melancholy. 


Today is Mother’s Day and I’m thinking of Ruthie Mae McDonald who knew the greatest heartache a mother can have   I’m thinking of her eldest daughter, Alvis Yvone Smith DeMoss who had children of her own and one of them my mother, Genevieve DeMoss Roberts. I’m thinking of them all and my heart is thankful. 


I’m thankful to have known the most influential women in the world, in my world. I am thankful for the rich spiritual heritage that they passed on to me and that I will pass on to my daughters. Today I celebrate them all! Happy Mother’s Day! 

Your Day Is Coming

Today, this very moment, I am the busy mom of many. I am trying to get myself together this morning before I wake the kids and prepare myself for the onslaught of activity and noise. I will likely have to raise my voice to be heard above the din. (In case you are wondering, din is a loud confusing mixture of noises that last for a long time and boy, does it describe my life.)

Today, this very day, I will likely speak with one of my teen daughters concerning her attitude and with my other daughter concerning her bossiness. I will most likely have to remind one son to keep on task and another to keep his hands to himself. I will surely pray hard as I attempt to teach my son with dyslexia his reading lesson. Oh, and let’s not forget the grown children. I’ll most certainly be cautioning and encouraging them. 

My life is full to the point of me trying to catch my breath and maintain my sanity at times and the reason why? These children. The ones I asked God to give me. My answers to prayer. They have filled my empty arms. They have stretched me and challenged me. I am stronger and wiser. I am exhausted and spent. I am their mother and it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. 

Even as I look for my courage to face my overwhelming day  I am remembering those who are still waiting. I am praying for those who will wrap their arms around each other and at times around themselves to try to cope with the terrible time of waiting for those arms to be filled with a child, their child, their very own child.

Your day is coming. Your path will be different than mine. Your disappointments may be many. Your waiting may seem unbearable. Your plight may seem hopeless. Your plan may be altered. Your hope may be almost diminished. But, I assure you, your day is coming. 

So, take courage if you are still waiting. Your day is coming. And when it does, I’ll be rejoicing with you.  And if your day has already come, seize the day and embrace every moment of your miracle.

The Hope of Easter

Today is Easter and we’ve celebrated with egg hunts and even a Passover Seder. Today we will gather with family and friends at an Easter Service to celebrate once more. Why all the celebrating? 

Well, let me assure you, it is much more than colored eggs and bunnies. We are celebrating the miracle of life. 


A precious ‘son of my heart’ posted the following words a few days ago. He blessed my hear with his words. 

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Galatians 6:9

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.
I am living proof, that if you invest Jesus into someone, as little or mundane as you might think it is, that seed will grow. That flower may only need to break through loose, fertile soil. Or in my case, it might have to break through red Georgia clay that’s under a foot of concrete. But be patient and continue to water it, and oh how sweet and beautiful it is once it blooms. 
To all of those that invested in me, I say thank you. And now I pay it forward, investing Jesus into other people, planting my own seeds.

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This is the miracle of new life, eternal life that we celebrate. This hope was made possible by the most important moment in history. That moment was when Jesus Christ, Yeshua, our Redeemer, defeated death, and gave us hope of new beginnings, fresh starts and forgiveness. 


If I told you more of my what Gary had faced, experienced and been through you would be amazed that just before Easter he was baptized as public proclamation of his faith. If I told you about his life, some of his choices, some of his struggles you would rejoice with me that he has come home spiritually. If I told you of the hundreds of prayers and years of waiting, you would take courage as you pray and wait for your own prodigals. 

So, yes, today we celebrate the hope of Easter! And today as Gary posted this picture of his wife and precious daughters, I know the miracle will continue. The hope will grow in the lives of his children. The hope of Easter changes everything. 


So, from my family to yours, I wish you a blessed day and the hope of Easter! 

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,”

‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭1:3‬ ‭NASB‬‬

I Won’t Forget You 

As a former foster mother I often wonder about the children we sheltered for a season. A few I still have contact with and I’m so glad. Seven we adopted and I’m glad about that too. But the others, those are the ones I wonder about. 

How are they? Are they happy? Do they have children of their own? Do they remember us? Will we hear from them one day? I wonder. 

One of those was a young boy we loved very much. His name was Carlos. He was not Hispanic and so many people asked him why he was named Carlos that he asked us to start calling him Chuck. He said he liked that name because of Chuck Norris. 

He made us laugh with his slow drawl and his matter-of-fact attitude. He was with us from the time he was 8 until he was 10. He adored Daddy Henry. 

When DHR managed to make contact with a birth family member who wanted to take him, we tried to be glad for him, but it was a sad time for us all. 

About eight years ago, he called us. We were thrilled to hear from him after so long. We encouraged him to come see us. He declined. He said he didn’t want us to see him as he was. He said he had made some mistakes. He said he had been arrested. He said he was struggling with drugs. He told us of the harsh treatment, neglect and abuse he experienced at the hand of the family members who had taken him in. I cried. 

And then as suddenly as we had been reconnected, we were disconnected. We lost touch. Since then I occasionally check social media and google his name. Just hoping and wondering. 

This morning was one of those times and I finally found some information. It was not what I expected or hoped for. It was his obituary. He had passed away at the young age of 24. I don’t even know how. We didn’t even get to say good-bye. 

Now my heart grieves for a child I have lost twice. I have told myself I should have done more, better, tried harder. When I shared what I had discovered with my husband, he was deeply saddened. He told me he should have been more diligent in praying for him. He said he was so sad to think of all the potential he had that was never realized. 

I wanted to remember him and the best way I could do that was to write these words. We love you Chuck! You’ll always have a place in our hearts. We are thankful to have known you. Farewell sweet boy. 

Every Child, Even Those

I’m thankful for a lot today and every day. But, when I really think about it, it’s the children in my life that I’m most thankful for and here’s why. They have given so much to me. I am a better person because of the children in my life.  

I am thankful for every child I have ever held in my arms, led in prayer, bandaged their boo-boos, tended their broken hearts, told a story to, opened my home to, braided or clipped their hair, read the Bible to, cried a tear over, said hello to and yes, even those I had to say goodbye to. 

I am thankful for every child that needed me for a season, that needed me forever, that needed me to bathe them, nurture them, listen to them, dress them and yes, even for the ones who need me to change their dirty diapers or clean up their messes in the kitchen or in life. 


I am thankful for every child that has blessed me by allowing me to love them, raise them, advise them, write about them, pray for them and yes, even those who don’t remember who I am because they were so young when they knew me. 

I am thankful for every child who has made me laugh at silly antics and corny jokes, who made me proud, who gave me courage and yes, even those who stretched me beyond myself so that I leaned heavily upon the Lord and therefore, in the end strengthened me. 


I am thankful for every foster child, my adopted children, my nieces and nephews, my my Sunday School students, youth in crisis and yes even the ones I claim as my own because I choose to. 

I believe that children are our greatest gift, our most precious resource and our best opportunity to impact the world and leave it a better place. So, today, I am thankful for all the children who will face tomorrows that I can only imagine, achieve things that will astound and surpass, and be better than necessary because they know how to love generously and live large.


Children are not all that matter of course, but to me they should be one of the most important matters. Whether they are an infant, an adolescent, a teen or yes, even a young adult, they are worth our time, our energies, our efforts. They are worth it when they disappoint us, stumble along the way or go a different direction than we expected. They are worth loving, opening your heart to, listening to, and encouraging.  Thank you Lord for the children that have been in my life! 

The Adoption Option

Seven years ago this very day, September 13, 2009,  we stood before a judge and adopted a sibling group of three, our two daughters and our youngest son. It was a Friday the 13th that would alter our lives forever as a judge declared what our hearts had already decided. We were a family! 

This wasn’t our first adoption day, this would be our fourth. It was an unusual experience for us because our county was celebrating national adoption month and we were one of several families to adopt that day. The atmosphere was festive!



Having previously adopted our first four sons, we became a family of nine. Love surely can take you places you never imagined you would go. Love surely can stretch you beyond yourself. Love surely can forge a family together with the spirit of adoption. 


Adoption is a legal commitment and it is binding and it changes the status of those adopting and those being adopted. They are united together by the authority of the law. 

Adoption is an emotional commitment and it is binding and it changes the status of those adopting and those being adopted. They are united together by the authority of love. 

Adoption is a spiritual commitment and it is binding and it changes the status of those adopting and those being adopted. They are united together by the authority of the Spirit of God. 


Adoption is not possible for everyone, but adoption is full of beautiful possibilities. Could this be an option for your family?


Take time to explore the possibilities. Don’t assume you aren’t qualified. Ask some questions, get some facts and explore the option of adoption. Did you know that foster-adoption is close to cost free? Did you know that over 100,000 children have their parental rights terminated and are available for adoption in the United States? Did you know that you don’t have to adopt an infant to gain a child, a real child, an older child who also chooses you? 

Four of our seven children were considered older child adoptions and I can give personal testimony that it can work! It has a special beauty because they are a part of the decision process. You choose each other. 

It is NOT easy, often not simple, and sometimes frustrating. But, just like pregnancy and parenting a child you birthed, adoption is worth all of the struggle, all of the effort and even heartache. Adoption is an option.