When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice, I am persuaded that [it is] in thee also.” II Timothy 1:5.

Paul’s words to a young Timothy resonate deeply with me because, for lack of a more scholarly word, the “vibe” from Timothy’s grandmother and mom is so my grandmother and mom. It just is. I’m convinced that in heaven this foursome will be sitting down under a verdant tree for long chats and heavenly laughter because of how much they had in common in their earthly lives.

Kindred spirits.

They will talk about not just their own love for Jesus, but how that love motivated them to “raise a child in the way they should go, and when they are old they will not depart from it,” Prov. 22:6. They will talk about how as mothers nothing was more important to them than raising children for the kingdom of God.

If Lois and Eunice could only see the difference their genuine, humble, yet fervent, unfeigned faith made in so many lives thousands of years later. I wish I could bottle their faith. And when I say “their”, I include my mom and grandma, too.

Let’s start with grandma’s faith.

Abuelita Dora became a single mother of three small children when her husband passed away sometime in the early 1950s. She took a very proactive, no-nonsense approach to providing for her kids, refusing to accept pity. Even though she didn’t speak English she knocked on doors in Texas border towns asking if she could do any ironing to earn money.

Her determination to provide a better life led her to California’s Central Valley where she and her three children picked fruit in the hot summer sun to earn a living. She never complained. What she often shared was how God was faithful and always provided. Her concern was raising productive, godly children. (Spoiler: she succeeded)

Cue mom.

After putting herself through nursing school, she went on to serve as a nurse for over 30 years, including in the ICU. Somewhere early in those 30 some years, my brother and I were born.

Like her mother, my mom’s life revolved primarily around the spiritual upbringing of her children. More than anything, mom and grandma’s faithful influence planted seeds even though, at the time, I didn’t see or understand it for what it was.

What is abundantly clear to me now is that they are the reason we as a family were blessed, and why I, in spite of many private struggles I faced, was phenomenally blessed in ways that transcend time or circumstances.

I'm so thankful for grandma’s life; not just because it was by her lineage that brought me into the world, but because of the value and quality her legacy of faith has added to my life.

One of the last conversations she had with my mom was about the Second Coming.

“When is Jesus coming back?” Grandma asked from her hospital bed.

“Soon, Mom. We already see the signs,” my mom said.

Grandma’s small, dim eyes lit up, "Really?” She said, with an almost childlike innocence. “You see the signs?"

The one thing age and mental decline never stole from her was the Blessed Hope.

Grandma passed away on October 23, 2007 at the age of 97. When she wakes up on resurrection morning, the first thing she'll see is the face of her Savior, the rock and fortress she leaned on all of her life.

Yes, I wish I could bottle that kind of faith.

I wish I could bottle its almost child-like purity and naïveté.

I wish I could bottle its quiet but relentless persistence.

I wish I could bottle its simplicity.

That, right there, is what secret sauce is made of.

I chose Simply Cynth as a permanent rebrand several years ago because I wanted to simply be me rather than a strategic public image or a cookie cutter definition of marketable. I wanted to connect with the things that brought me joy and were authentic and meaningful to me in every area of my life.

I wasn’t consciously thinking about Grandma or my mom when I did that, but I realized how much they in fact had to do with my heart’s longing for simplicity of faith, work, and daily living. Their faith worked because it was simple, uncomplicated, and authentic, and it flowed into every area of their lives.

I write this piece for the first time in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic. By the time this goes to print I don’t know if it will have gotten better, or worse. What I do know is that I am not panicking. And I also know that I am not panicking because I trust that God has promised to provide. And I know I trust in God in what some might consider a naïve way because of the faithful influence of my mother and grandmother.

I never had maternal longings. I’ve always longed for a life partner for the companionship, not for the babies. At this point in my life it’s pretty much a done deal that I won’t ever be a biological mother, and I’m perfectly ok with that. But as it slowly sinks in that I’m old enough to be a young mama to early 20-somethings, I realize that as women, we are all mothers in a way, whether or not we ever give birth.

As I observe the dynamic and talented up and coming younger women I admire who are highly creative, passionate about ministry, creating impactful content, and doing life in a way I could only dream about having done back then, I realize that as women, yes, we all have a mother's heart. Perhaps we wish we could have done some things differently, but we are giddy with joy seeing the ones behind us doing it, and more, and cheering them on at every step.

Such a mom thing.

Be it through friendship, mentorship, adoption, fostering, women are mothers in different ways, and, I dare say, throughout our lives. We nurture, encourage, and serve. Even if no one ever calls us mom/mum/mama, what do we want our legacy of motherhood to be?

As women, may we all be Loises and Eunices; living lives of such pure, unfeigned, authentic faith that it can’t BUT build the kingdom of God by its very existence.

I hope there’s a spot under that green tree for me too.