“When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.” 2 Timothy 1:5
Timothy was born in the 1970s to a girl who was still a child. Timothy's biological mother was a young, pretty, naive teenage girl. One night, she made a mistake, and Timothy was the consequence.
Timothy's father was an all-American boy. He was handsome and charming, the most popular boy in high school. Timothy’s father was an honor student and a star athlete. He was going places in life. A wife and a baby didn’t fit into his plans. So, Timothy’s father left him before he was even born, and he was branded a bastard. He had no daddy. On his birth certificate, the block where his father's name should have been was left blank.
Timothy’s mother was a child herself. She was young and couldn't raise a child, so she decided to put Timothy up for adoption, and his grandmother adopted him. On the day he was born, Timothy was taken from the hospital, loved, and cared for by his grandmother. Timothy’s grandmother, a woman of strong faith and unwavering love, became Timothy’s Momma.
Momma loved Timothy so much. She had always wanted a son, but God had seen fit to give her three girls. As the years went by, she thought that she would never have a son, but just like Abraham’s wife, Sarah, who was blessed with a baby boy in her old age -- God blessed Timothy’s Momma with a baby boy in her old age.
Momma was so blessed by her boy. She wiped his nose and his backside, too. She held him at night when he was sick. She loved Timothy and raised him like he was her own child.
When Timothy was in school, he made Momma a present. He took an empty Campbell’s Soup Can and glued uncooked macaroni noodles on it. Then he painted it gold and gave it to Momma. She took the ugly can, placed it on the kitchen table, and put flowers in it. Whenever anyone would come to the house, she would brag and say, “Look at the beautiful vase that Timothy made for me.” She couldn’t have been more proud if it were made of real gold.
One day, Timothy came home crying from school with a bloody nose. He had been in a fight. A boy he thought was his friend had beat him up. Timothy asked, “Why did Joey hit me? He was supposed to be my friend.” Momma sighed as she cleaned him up. She wiped away his tears. Then she picked him up and sang, "What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear. What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.” Timothy never forgot that.
Momma was a fine Christian woman. She did everything possible to see that Timothy was raised in a Christian home. He went to Sunday School and church. Timothy learned the Bible. He knew about faith in Jesus. He learned to pray, “God is Great. God is good. Let us thank Him for our food” before every meal. He prayed every night, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Momma taught Timothy to pray.
Timothy’s earliest memories are of Momma singing to him. She sang Jesus Loves Me, Jesus Loves the Little Children, The Old Rugged Cross, Nothing but the Blood, Amazing Grace, and all the classic hymns. She also had old record albums of Elvis Presley, Jim Reeves, Buck Owens, George Jones, and Charley Pride singing Gospel Music. She played those records all the time. They were scratchy and old, but they sounded like Heaven to Timothy.
Momma wanted Timothy to be a preacher when he grew up. She used to talk to him about it. She said, “God has put it on my heart that you will take the Gospel around the world.” She dressed Timothy like a preacher in his little suit and took him to church. As the preacher was in the pulpit, she whispered to Timothy, “Someday, you’ll be a great preacher.”
Momma was very sick. Timothy didn’t know it, but she was slowly dying. One day, Timothy overheard her praying, "God, let me live to raise Timothy. Life will be so hard on him without me caring for him."
Unfortunately, she didn’t live. She died on Mother’s Day in 1981. Little Timothy was devastated. His life was turned upside-down. For several years, he was shuffled from one foster home to another. He became bitter, heartbroken, and angry with God. He struggled with feelings of abandonment and a deep sense of loss, often questioning his faith and the purpose of his life. He felt like God had abandoned him, just like his mother had been taken from him. His faith was tested, and he often found himself in dark places, questioning the very existence of God. But even in those moments, the seeds of faith his Momma had planted were still there, waiting to bloom.
Two thousand years before Timothy was born, the Apostle Paul wrote to another young man named Timothy. Paul told Timothy that his mother and grandmother planted his faith. Their faith was not just a fleeting influence but a lasting legacy. The Bible also speaks about training a child in the faith so that he will not depart from it when he is old. This enduring impact of faith is a testament to the power of a mother's influence.
The seeds of faith that Timothy’s Momma planted grew. After years of struggle, Timothy found his way to the Lord. His journey was not easy, but it was transformative. He gave his life to Jesus Christ and was saved. Later, God called him to the ministry. Just like Momma had dreamed, Timothy became a preacher.
Today, I, James Timothy Collins, am the man I am because of the Grace of God and the love of a Christian Momma.
The point is that a Christian Mother is truly a blessing. As you have been reading this story about my Momma, you have been thinking about your own. Call her if she still lives and wish her a "Happy Mother's Day."
Better yet, go see her.
If your Momma has passed, thank God for blessing you with such a wonderful woman to raise you.
I thank God for mine.
