Today would have been her 82nd birthday. Here is what I wrote for her memorial to be read along with other people's memories of her:
It's almost impossible for me to separate my memories of my mom from those of my dad. They were a team. And she saw her role as one of support to his ministry. My dad depended on her insight in ministry and her ability to run a house and her loyalty to him. And she was faithful to both my dad and the Lord. They delighted in serving the Lord together wherever He led them.
My mom often lived in houses not of her choosing but always made them into a home for her family. There was a little house on a muddy dairy farm and the big nice house on the (Willamette) river. There was even the time when she had to live IN the church, and my first home with her, across the parking lot here (Elm Street Baptist Church)...
My mom was a great cook. Despite the lack of resources, she always managed to put a beautiful meal on the table. Who can forget her fried chicken, potato salad and homemade rolls? She had the ability to take whatever few ingredients she had on hand to make something tasty and nourishing.
My mom was generally quiet but had firm beliefs about what was right and wrong behavior and wasn't afraid to express it. You wouldn't DARE back talk her. If so, you'd end up regretting it--usually with the flavor of soap residue in your mouth. She once told an armed stranger who barged in on her church camp cabin full of girls to put his gun away. And then there was the time she confronted a male hanging out in the women's restroom (at night) at a campground to "get out". He actually complied--with an apology. (You didn't mess with my mom.) I still remember her yelling across the post office parking lot at a crazed, angry old man who was harassing me outside our car. She was never shy about using paint paddles or wooden spoons or an old belt to instruct her children either. (Even on me, despite what my brothers and sister may tell you.) She prayed aloud over JW's in our home--even blocked the door so she could finish the prayer. She was my dad's biggest fan and also his most loyal critic. (And Heaven help him if he wrinkled his suit jacket!)
With all of her duties of life, the first thing you would notice in her home in the morning, was the smell of coffee, and her curled in her chair with her Bible opened in front of her. She tried to please the Lord in all respects and instructed us that this was the most important thing.
She was an encourager, supporter, and gift-giver to her family. She loved us and adored her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. While much of what defined her daily life slowly faded with her capabilities, her work endures. She showed us that rewards are not of this world. That God provides. That her family was special. That marriage was sacred. That Scripture is powerful. That prayers are answered. That books should be read. That music is necessary. That to be friendly is better than to be popular. That underwear really is a Christmas gift. That jello is a food group. That sharing is joyful. That back-talk tastes awful. That furniture doesn't have to be the latest thing. That beauty is in relationships. That you eat "what is put before you". That you really DON"T need a meal on Sunday nights. That you dust where no one will look. That sacrifice can be in the very practical details. That your home is where your family is. That God is good and trustworthy.
