8125 Scudder, the place where my mother grew up, in the house my grandfather built. It may look like a shack to you. I don’t see a shack. I see a place where prayers were prayed and answered. I see the place where she climbed trees and cut grass, all the while refusing to play with girly baby dolls. I see her inside her room with the window open looking out at the stars and saying, “Lord, one day will you give me a daughter?” I see the house next door where my Dad lived and that he became her husband. She became my mom.
I am so thankful for my mother’s humble beginnings because this is the house where her faith was born. She never forgot where she came from and never gave up on spreading the love of Jesus whereever she went. I thank God that my children and my children’s children will walk in my mother’s legacy.