The Virtuous Mom: Having the Courage to Believe

faith, courage

Faith means different things to different people I think.

But faith is the substance of things hoped for the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1 Because if you already see it then what’s the point of hoping for it? (paraphrase).

When you have no one to depend on, your only recourse is to have faith that things will work out.

However it is true that “…faith without works is dead,” James 2:17

Meaning if you need a job but you never look for one it is highly unlikely you will get one no matter how… Click To Tweet

When you are mothering solo it may seem like you are all alone. Yet, I find that having faith in God brings me peace. And usually that faith is “rewarded” by an answer I didn’t quite expect.

For example, when my youngest became a teenager, he was quite lippy. I was tired, overworked and overwhelmed. I realize I couldn’t handle him and I wasn’t interested in getting into a shouting match with him every day. I tried that once and I almost had a stroke — literally.


My Friend Lorraine is Dead

Actually, she died many years ago of cancer.  But I remember her at this moment because I was reading the Daily Posts’ 365 Days of Writing Prompts.  I noticed one of the prompts was about sports which started me thinking of the most fond memory I have of my friend, Lorraine.

Lorraine and I spent many Sunday afternoons watching NBA games on TV.  As a matter of fact that was our play “date” each week — our girls night out, so to speak.  Yes, she was single and in her thirties and I was married with a child and in my twenties.  Regardless of our personal responsibilities, come hell or high water if there was an NBA game on television on a Sunday afternoon, we were watching it.  The funny thing is because we lived 68 miles apart, for a while most of the games were watched while we talked on the phone.  The conversations would last the entire length of the game.   And Bell Canada thanked us for it.

After my family moved to Toronto, Lorraine and I watched the games together either in her home or mine.  There were no Sunday dinners, just basketball.  Yes, we were absolutely serious.  Sometimes we would add a male friend to the conversation when we disagreed about something.  These sometimes 3-way phone conversations were loud and obnoxious but all done in fun and because we loved basketball so much.  The guys thought we were crazy and they were probably right.  My husband would use the time to spend time (away from us) with our son.  I think he thought we were crazy too.

All this took place around the late eighties into around the mid nineties.  During the heydays of pro basketball. Yeah I said it.  I don’t watch basketball anymore. I have gone to the odd games when I was in Atlanta but that was more for the kids. And truth be told, even then I preferred the half-time shows to the game itself.  I have truly lost interest. I guess maybe because the bond that was formed during those days was irretrievably broken.  With Lorraine gone, my interest in the game has waned.

Things were never the same after Lorraine and I parted ways.  Unfortunately, we didn’t part ways in a friendly manner.  And I’m not talking about her untimely death.  It took me a very long time to forgive her for betraying my trust.  You see, she divulged a secret I had shared with her to my then pastor. The pastor told me and warned me to be careful what I shared with others.  I was devastated by the betrayal which shattered what little trust I had in women.  I have always had trouble forming bonds with females because I was convinced they talked too much.  Lorraine proved me right and I still have trouble forming lasting friendships with women.

I miss her even though our friendship was over long before she died.  I wish I was able to tell her face to face that I had forgiven her.  But by this time I was 1800 miles away and had left that part of my life behind.

Still, the times Lorraine and I spent together after church each Sunday bragging on a rare Magic Johnson dunk, Adrian Dantley thumbing his forehead right before he hit a free throw or running across the living room to make sure Kareem caught that rebound, is magical and will never be forgotten.  As you can tell we were rabid Lakers fans.  These wonderful memories are filed in the “most fun I’ve had on a Sunday” folder of my life.