Timothy's Momma - May 12, 2018
James Collins

“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. He was born to a girl who was really still a child herself. Timothy’s biological mother was a young, pretty, naive, teenage girl. One night, she made a mistake. Timothy was the consequence. Timothy’s father was the 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. Timothy was branded a bastard. He had no daddy. On his birth certificate, the block was left blank where his father’s name should have been.

Timothy’s mother was just a child herself. She was so young. She couldn’t raise a child. She made the decision for Timothy to be adopted by his grandmother. On the very day he was born, Timothy was taken from the hospital, and loved, and cared for by his grandmother. Timothy’s Grandmother became Timothy’s Momma.

Momma loved Timothy so much. She had always wanted a son. When she was young, she had prayed for a son. However, 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. She was so happy and so proud. She wiped his nose and his backside too. She held him at night when he was sick. She loved him and raised him like he was her own child.

When Timothy was in school, he made his Momma a present. He took an empty Campbell’s Soup Can and glued un-cooked macaroni noodles to the can. Then he painted it gold. Timothy’s Momma took that ugly can and 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 with a bloody nose and a black eye. He had been in a fight. He was crying. A boy that he had thought was his friend had beat him up. Timothy asked, “Why did Joey hit me? I thought he was my friend.” Momma just sighed as she cleaned him up. She wiped away his tears. Then she picked him up and sang to him, “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.

Timothy’s Momma was a fine Christian woman. She did everything that she possibly could to see that Timothy was raised in a Christian home. He went to Sunday School and church. He learned the Bible. He learned about faith in Jesus. He learned to pray. He prayed, “God is Great. God is good. Let us thank Him for our food” before every meal. He prayed, “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” every night before he went to sleep. Momma taught Timothy to pray.

Timothy’s earliest memories are of Momma singing to him. She sang, “Jesus Loves Me” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” But she also sang, “The Old Rugged Cross,” “Blessed Assurance,” “Victory in Jesus,” “Nothing but the Blood,” “Amazing Grace,” and all of 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 would play those records for Timothy. The records were scratchy and old, but they sounded like Heaven to Timothy.

Momma wanted Timothy to be a preacher when he grew up. She always 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 used to dress him up in his little suit and take him to church. As the preacher was in the pulpit, she would whisper to Timothy, “Someday, you’ll be a great preacher.”

Timothy’s Momma was very sick. She was slowly dying. One day, Timothy overheard her praying that God would let her live long enough to see Timothy grow up. She prayed, “God, let me live to raise Timothy. Life will be so hard on him without me to take care of him.” But she didn’t live. She died on Mother’s Day in 1981. Little Timothy was devastated. His life was turned upside-down. For the next several years, he was shuffled from one foster home to another. He became bitter and heart-broken. He was angry with God, so he ran from God.

Two thousand years before Timothy was born, the Apostle Paul wrote to another young man named Timothy. Paul told Timothy that his faith was planted by his mother and grandmother. The Bible also speaks about training up a child in the faith and when he is old, he will not depart from it. The seeds of faith that Timothy’s Momma planted grew. After years of struggle, Timothy found his way to the Lord. He was gloriously and miraculously 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 that I am because of the Grace of God and the love of a Christian Momma.

The point is: As you have been reading this story about my Momma, you have been thinking about your own. If she is still living, call her. Wish her a “Happy Mother’s Day.” Better yet, go see her. If your momma has passed on, say a prayer thanking God blessing you with such a wonderful woman to raise you. Thank You Lord for Momma.

James Collins was blessed by the Lord to have a Momma that loved him dearly.

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