Voices: Honoring all who have mothered me

When I was a child, my mother taught children’s Sunday school, Vacation Bible School, and helped in choir. She was extremely talented, with teaching skills acquired at Baylor.

She had a large Bible on a stand. It had gorgeous pictures of Bible scenes. She read every verse like it was the most amazing statement ever written.

Watching mom teach, I was proud of her, but also a bit sad I was sharing her with other children. I was a little jealous.

Growing up

Growing up in a Baptist church, every promotion Sunday propelled me into the classes of new lady teachers and their husbands, men who wore business suits and served as department directors. I loved the young teachers who wore cute 1960s dresses, brought cupcakes to class, and hosted “after-church fellowships” in their homes.

Though we kids rarely had the social skills to convey deep appreciation to adults, it felt great to have a family other than my own welcome us with hot dogs, sloppy joes, or sandwiches.

Each loving teacher helped me feel a part of the church.

I shared my mother with other kids, and many moms in the church mothered me, especially at camps and on church trips. All moms, with their rules and kind advice, were more or less “one”: the cumulative, iconic Baptist mother.

In college

In college, mothers from all over Tarrant County cooked and served our Baptist Student Union noon lunches, so we students could take an hour out of the school day to worship on campus at the BSU. Girls were taught by the local BSU director’s wife at my church, Fielder Road Baptist Church in Arlington.

Numerous church women worked all week preparing Sunday night get-togethers for students.

As a homemaker now, I know from experience how hard it is to host a gathering—cleaning the entire house, kitchen, and yard, and preparing recipes from The Best of Southern Living magazine. Hostesses are heroes of the faith. As my mama always said: “The home work/housework does not show unless you don’t do it.”

Marriage

When I married, church ladies of First Baptist Church in Wharton hosted a “church shower” in the fellowship hall for Joe and me.

In the 1970s, the bride would customarily share her preferred colors for home décor, and the church ladies displayed gifts on numerous covered tables. I received an electric skillet, Tupperware, Corning Ware, linens and hand-embroidered cotton pillowcases, towels—all in my chosen “earth tones.”

For our wedding, mom’s closest church friend made three kinds of tea sandwiches and punch to offer guests, along with the wedding cake.

Church ladies taught me as a child, fed me as a student, and launched me into married life as a minister’s wife.

When my husband Joe and I served at churches, women—who were mostly moms—played the piano; taught the Bible, missions, and choir; guided major Woman’s Missionary Union mission projects and offerings; decorated for holidays and all-church events; and cooked for potlucks.

In our first church, a church in the middle of cotton fields, couples cleaned the small church, with each couple signing up to do the job for a week. Several ladies polished the wood pews with furniture polish, which made a world of difference and smelled beautiful.

Now, decades later, I have joined the senior adult ladies diligently praying for the sick and ministering with meals. Our age group helps with funerals when needed, we work to provide food and clothing for the homeless in our city, and we provide for the missionary house owned by our church.

How does one learn to minister?

I learned to minister from my dear mother, but also from hundreds of “other mothers” in the eight churches to which I belonged. These women taught so much more than they realized: how to be a wife and mother, how to organize a home with skill, how to serve the Lord with faithfulness, how to pray and have a heart for God.

So many things they taught and I caught, with each woman having her area of expertise. Each woman left a different but profound impression on my life, and thus, on my family’s lives.

Baptist women have mothered us all

As Mother’s Day approaches, I no longer have my beloved mom on earth to honor in the usual ways. Sadly, as we get older, we women lose our mothers, only to find perhaps we have become her. We hope she is proud of us.

Sometimes I ask God to let my dear mom know how I love her, and I hope she can see me trying to be a decent legacy of her efforts and love. That may not be scriptural, but God understands how we love in a world where eternity is seen through a veil, in a dark mirror that will be exquisitely clear one day.

We Baptists could celebrate Mother’s Day broadly and show gratitude for all the women who have raised us in our faith.

Some of our “moms” have been never-married ladies, childless wives, divorced women, perhaps grandmothers, aunts, neighbors, schoolteachers, and church workers. God uses everyone who will be used to parent and equip the next generation for Christian faith and faithfulness.

May we honor all who are worthy

It saddens me to read about Baptist leaders who demean women or speak words with a demeaning tone. These men may mean well. They may be trying to uphold the Bible, but their speaking to exclude and not include hurts. Is this what God intended when Paul wrote to the early church?

When people are filled with the love of God, fully filled with the Spirit, they feel safe enough to clearly see and lift up others who have laid their lives on the line for the gospel. Some of these folks may be female. Let’s be affirming and loving, supporting those in service and caring for those in their later years.

May we never marginalize the women who mothered us.

Mother’s Day can be spent remembering the women who modeled motherhood and Christ’s sacrificial love to us.

Ruth Cook is a longtime Texas Baptist. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.