It is so important that we all have a person or people to support us emotionally. We often first lean on our family and friends, and if we are lucky, we even get a co-worker or two that we befriend and we form a mutual support system at work too. I have been extremely lucky. I have people who are more like angels. These people are assigned to my life and feel an obligation to make sure that I am okay.
Recently, one of those people, my God-Mother, had to move back to her home town, states away to care for her elderly parents. When she first told me about her decision to leave, I wanted to throw a tantrum and tell her to stay. In her usual, faithful fashion, she reassured me with her next statement. She told me that she would never leave me if she thought that I wouldn’t be ok without her. It took me weeks to resolve myself to that. I still wonder if I was really ready to be without her.Its been about 7 months since she moved back home, but we talk regularly, and we are a patient with each other when our schedules have us missing one another. I was so excited when she called and said that she would be at 8 am church service today. I couldn’t wait and all the anxiety I have felt about attending church in recent months, went out of the window. I got up at 5 am, showered and washed my hair and got ready for service. When she got there, she gave me the biggest hug. Not just any hug though, the kind of hug a mother gives her young child after a weekend away, or an overnight trip grandma’s house. All that was missing was the sniff of my hair.
I have known Momma Nina since I was 16 years old. I had just joined the church she attended and her then fiance’, now my God-father, was the instructor for my baptism class. I joined the praise dance ministry and she loaned me her garments for the Christmas program. I don’t really remember asking any one to be my God-parent, but it happened. My God-father, just started calling me his God-daughter. They were there for me through college, and kept in touch even after divorcing. When I was pregnant with my daughter, they went in on her gift together. Buying my princess the most unnecessarily extravagant gift on my registry, $20 pink baby towels with tiara’s for the hood, like 3 of them. I, even then, did not understand the love they each had for me. Going through my worst episodes of depression, my god-parents prayed for me. They didn’t announce it, they didn’t tell me, they didn’t call my family or friends, they just prayed for me.
There came a time that I joined the same church as my God-mother, and I became aware of how deep her love for me went. She was able to recall instances in which she knew I was acting out or hurt, engaging in wreck less behavior, and so many other things that we never talked about. But she spoke to me as though she was right there physically next to me when they happened. Even though I was absent from her physical presence, she observed via social media and never stopped praying for me. Neither of them did.
When I hit my worst, she was there praying, offering advice, backing off when I needed her to, and correcting me when I didn’t want her to. If I am transparent, her correction, is what birthed this platform. I can recall expressing my anger with God for not healing me of this illness. After several conversations with her about this, she told me that I had to accept the response I was getting and ask God what He wanted. I finally started asking God if He didn’t want to heal me, what did He want me to do with it.
Another time, I was griping about how things weren’t what I wanted them to be. My life wasn’t what it should be. I was harping on all of the things that I didn’t have, all of the things that I had lost, and where I needed to get in order to feel that my life was on track. She, in so many words, asked me why I thought I deserved more than even God expected of me. I was confused too. What she was trying to get me to understand is that, I was expecting perfection from myself, something God himself doesn’t require of any of His children. It pained me to hear it at the time, but everyday, I can hear her words as I feel pressure build in one situation or the other.
Today, after nearly 7 months without my Momma Nina, I got to sit next to her, no 8 year-old little girl wedged between us. I was able to feel her presence, she held my hand and squeezed me as tight as she could. I didn’t know until we got ready to part ways how much I truly missed her being here. I found myself standing outside in the foyer at church, something I never do, waiting on her to finish speaking to and loving on all of the other people who miss her, just as I do. She hugged me one last time, reminded me that she loved me, that she was praying for me, and said two words, “No Sadness.” “What?”, I thought. She said to me, something I know, but never openly acknowledge, this season is going to be tough, but not one bit of sadness.” She smiled at me as I fought back tears, I mustered a smile back and noticed, that she might be doing the same.
As I walked, back to my car, I cried like a little child being separated from its parents. I kept asking myself, “How can I not be sad, she is leaving me again?” But after I let a few of the tears out, a sense of gratitude came over me. I have grown in so many ways, and my relationships have changed drastically. I don’t get the parental support that I once did as a child, but sometimes, I crave it. Someone who sees me as their child, a person that they love unconditionally, that they would lay down their life for. I miss not being looked upon for my shortcomings. I miss not being reminded of all the times I chose for myself, and didn’t do what I was told. I think back, and I don’t recall a time during my childhood, or even as an adult that I didn’t fear losing the love and approval of my parents or loved ones, if I made the wrong choice. I have that with Momma Nina. Even though I am a mother myself, she reminds my daughter as well as me, that I am HER baby. I can only hope that I am half as good of a mother as she is a God-Mother to me.
Meeting her at 16 years old, was no coincidence, it was divine intervention. God knew where my life was headed, and what I would need to stay the course to fulfill His purpose. My Momma Nina, is the human manifestation of God’s love for me. Often when I pray, my answers/ responses come in the form of her voice. Her corrections is filled with love and encouragement, and every post or shout out she gives includes the hashtag #lovemesumu But there are no words or hashtags that can encompass the love I have for my God-Mother. I miss her Sunday hugs and her random check-ins. I never have to tell her everything, somehow she just knows. I thank God for her everyday, and I pray that everyone find their “Momma Nina”. I pray to be that for my own children. She is EVERYTHING and then so much more. A blessing, An Angel, Love in the form of flesh. I hope you have that, and if you don’t, that you find it. Pray for it. Be open to it. Receive it when it comes. It can be the very thing that helps you grow no matter where you are planted. Because of Momma Nina, I grew in darkness, first toward her, a small glimmer of God’s light. Because God told her to, she moved her light and left me to keep growing, only now in the marvelous light of God.
