Orphaned. Abandoned. Poor. Three little kids, ages two, four, and six, left to fend for themselves in back alley dumpsters and cold farmhouses…this is the sad tale of my mother’s early childhood. I’ve heard scraps and pieces of her painful beginning from her older brother and sister at family gatherings for years now.

I can see my family gathered at the table as my mom’s famous banana pudding is passed around. I can hear my uncle telling of the time he used gasoline to build a fire to keep them warm. “Gasoline? Really? Lucky to be alive,” someone would say. You see, my uncle was just six years old, the elder of the abandoned trio, but age didn’t keep him from acting as the protector of his little sisters; he would do anything to keep them warm, fed, safe. The table laughs at his memory as we scoop seconds of the sweet dessert and everyone nods in agreement “the Lord sure kept watch over those babies all those years ago.” More Laugher. More dessert. More praise. 

My mom’s story began in a poor family with a mother who by most accounts must have suffered mental trauma and distress. As many have said, “Women just don’t leave their babies like that.” It goes against nature. The maternal instinct to care and provide is so powerful that we can safely assume, that my maternal grandmother (whom I never met) was a broken and hurting woman. For a woman to just walk away and leave her young to survive goes against nature.  Yet, she did. And those three babies were left to fend and depend on the goodness and generosity of others to help in their time of need. 

As I write these words, I find myself praising our Redeemer who works all things for good! In their same town was a woman named Mamie, who by that point was in her mid-forties who could not have children. She had long since given up hope of having a child. Until she heard from a friend about these little kids…orphaned, abandoned, poor…who needed a momma to raise them as her own.  So she did, she answered the call and in turn, God answered her prayer. 

I can’t imagine life without my grandmother. Honestly, I would have never known that she wasn’t really my flesh and blood…unless, I had not heard the story, time and again, of how she took in those babies and raised them as her own. Her choice laid the foundation of my story. Her decision transformed lives, destinies, and eternities. Mamie raised my mom and my aunt as her own. She loved them, disciplined them, taught them to cook, to sew, and thankfully, to make banana pudding. She became momma.

My own mom is a redeemed girl. Not only did Jesus redeem her physically and provide her a loving home, but in her early twenties, Jesus redeemed her soul. She fell in love with the Lord and chose to raise her own family in His word. This is my legacy.  Just as my mom’s childhood shaped her life, it shaped my own as well.  She and my dad raised five kids of their own. Yet, my mom is a woman who never met a stranger…everyone is family. Throughout my childhood, I saw my parents bring in orphans and family friends who needed a place to stay or a meal to eat. It was just the right thing to do.  Today, every elderly person in her zip code knows that Susie is on standby for a ride to church, trip to the grocery store or just to be included in one of our family gatherings. The legacy of raising others “as her own” was knit into every fiber of her being. 

I didn’t realize how much my mom’s story shaped me until I went on a mission trip to India to serve with As Our Own Ministry. Their name embodies the heart of what they do. They simply want to obey God by rescuing the orphaned and oppressed and raise them…you guessed it … as their own. This isn’t an orphanage—this is a family.  The staff not only rescues girls from horrific situations, but they protect, educate, discipline, care, nurture and guide these young women for the rest of their lives. 

Meeting the girls struck something deep in my heart. I saw in each of their eyes, my own mom, orphaned, abandoned, and poor, who was rescued and redeemed by our Savior and who had a hope and a future because someone chose to love her…as their own.  When I see them, watch them play, hear them sing, and learn God’s Word, I know their past doesn’t determine their destiny, because our God is a mighty Redeemer and He can make beauty from ashes.

This Mother’s Day, you can honor your own mother by giving a financial gift to As Our Own just as I did. Your donation will equip this ministry to care for some of the world’s most vulnerable children in Jesus’ name. Your gift can help redeem girls and change destinies for the Glory of God. Join me in saying, “Thanks, Mom” by supporting As Our Own.

Here’s a special way to say, “Thanks, Mom!”

STEP 1 :: Give to our Thanks, Mom! campaign to honor your mom by Mother’s Day, May 8.

STEP 2 :: In the donation comments box, tell us what you appreciate most about your mom.

STEP 3 :: Download a certificate for your mom that explains the gift you’ve made in her name.

About As Our Own
The extreme poverty in India places girls at great risk for exploitation, enslavement, and neglect. Girls are regularly abused and degraded, forced into lives of bonded labor, either in organized begging or the sex trade.
These girls will face a dark, horrific future—unless someone intervenes.
God has opened the door for As Our Own to rescue girls before they are exploited, giving us the privilege to care for each one as our own—for life. We are building strong communities through our Lighthouse church network and training strong leaders and pastors at our Hope College, all to break these cycles for girls in future generations.

Your gifts make a lasting difference for these girls. Thank you!