My story brings me to the person I am today, though some chapters were harder than others each one played a role in allowing God to “redefine me” to allow me to come humbly before him in praise as I strive to bring honor and glory unto Him.
It’s hard to designate one exact location as the place where I grew up because we moved several times; but for me I suppose my “growing up” occurred in the “lower bottom” of Western Kentucky less than a mile from the Mississippi River. The lower bottom of Western Kentucky is a small agricultural area along the banks of the mighty Mississippi River that often flooded becoming a duck hunters paradise. Our home was located 11 miles from the nearest town in the middle of fields of soy beans, corn, and duck blinds for as far as the eyes could see. In the distance one could spot a tree or two and one lonely house off in the distance where Mamaw Brownie lived.
Mamaw Brownie played an important role in my life as she sat with me many a day on the sandy banks of the Mississippi watching the barges make their way down river. While we watched ever so diligently the bobbers on our fishing lines, she told me stories of her life growing up in the lower bottom. She was the quiet guiding wisdom that listened to my stories, my hurts, and my joys with a never judging or faltering eye. Mamaw Brownie was steady and sure, a constant for a few years in my life when I felt a little lost. She became the person that filled the void in my life that occurred with the passing of my Big Mama.
Big Mama never sat with me on the river bank, but in the early years of my life she was the one to create a safe space where I always knew I was loved. She was part of my story from my first steps and my first word, always there to smile and chuckle as I faltered and I fell ready to pick me up and send me on my way. It was probably her sense of positivity that resonates most with me today as I work hard at finding the positive, the silver lining in each and every cloud.
Midway Baptist Church was a important element of my life that became the roots of my ancestry, a legacy to my family story. Standing as a silent white monument, it represented so much of my family’s past. Built and pastored by my “Preacher Daddy”, all three of my uncles and my dad, it stood as a testament to the Godly heritage given to me by those that came before. Within its walls many pieces of my story became a reality, from my salvations, marriage, and numerous family funerals each filled with beginnings and see ya laters. Within those walls memories of so many faces pass across the screen of recollection of my childhood.
My memories of my time in the lower bottom come to me from time-to-time, some with waves of sadness and some with a smile. Looking back I would not trade one moment, knowing that I am a culmination of all the single moments in time that have been woven together as the elements that make me the person I have become. Some of the sadness stems from watching my mother struggle with MS, the depression that she felt so deeply, and the knowledge that I was as much her caretaker as she was mine. There were moments of loneliness that often overtook me during those days, but also offered me freedom that otherwise would not have come my way. Books became my closest friends offering me journeys to faraway places that served to fuel my dreams and drive my love for learning. Dad was frequently gone, but when he was home the mood would always lift. From the time I was twelve a very important transition occurred resulting in so many wonderful family memories. Dad would carve out two weeks in his schedule during the month of September for a family trip to the Smoky mountains. Those days were filled with adventure and the fostering of a deep love for the great outdoors. Memories from those times spent together will always be some of the ones I treasure the most.
In time, a family of my own came to be the truest of all my dreams, to be a mother was the greatest gift that could be bestowed upon me outside of the salvation of my soul. From the moment I first held my son in my arms and peered into his sweet face, God brought me one step closer to His realization of who I was meant to be, just as He would with each of my daughters and later my adopted son. In that first moment all of the visions I held in my heart of the mother I would become set the stage for some of my most humbling experiences, for the one thing that I knew within the deepest parts of my inner being was that I needed God in this my new endeavor.
Motherhood became the sweetest and most bitter of some of my life lessons as I soon realized that I was not enough, I made mistakes, and I faltered. The dream I had of being that “all” that my babies needed was soon squelched with the realization that in myself I could not live up to the expectations I had set for being the “perfect” mother.
As time tends to do, it built me and it broke me. Through years of life experiences I finally came to the end of myself in my own sinful pride and discovered that try as I might I was unable to “do it me-self”. The world that I set to establish for myself crumbled and completely fell apart. The storybook ending I had in mind was not to be, my story was really just beginning.
At the end of myself, I found God ready to build the life that He had planned for me all the time. I found Him ready to “Redefine Me” establishing me upon a path forward known only to him. Now, I work to greet each day with a renewed heart of gratitude and the knowledge that I need him every second of every day. I do not know what lies ahead, but I stand assured in the one who is already there steadily guiding me forward.
Redefined in Him 