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Berdine's Corner

My Mama Prayed For Me

by Deborah E. Dennard

berdine dennard
Berdine Dillard Dennard

Life Lessons from a Matriarch

"My mama prayed for me, had me on her mind, took her time and prayed for me! I'm so glad she prayed, I'm so glad she prayed, I'm so glad she prayed for me!" This song rings true in my life, but not just mine and my brothers, I'm sure many others have that same testimony.

As children, my brothers and I had our fair share of health scares. My younger brother was bitten by a tick with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. It caused him to become very sick, and he was eventually hospitalized and even fell into a coma for several days. The doctors told my parents that he was very close to death, and even if he did wake, he would be severely brain damaged. My parents prayed, but even more so than that, we all prayed: my grandparents, my uncles and aunts, extended families, and church families. I remember the story of my daddy's mama and some of the saints from the "sanctified church" coming to lay hands on Roy and praying. Before one of the saints left the room, she proclaimed, "It's done!" Less than an hour later, my brother had awakened and was asking for a hamburger. In fact, he was back to reciting all of the presidents of the United States by memory, as if he had only awakened from a nap. Roy is a walking miracle.

My baby brother was hit by a car and had a head injury. He decided to walk home from the library instead of waiting. Upon crossing the road, he failed to look carefully and was hit by a car, being thrown in the air over the car. He endured a head injury. Unfortunately for my mama, she was on the way to pick him up when she drove up on the accident with him lying in the street. After she calmed down and stopped screaming (someone warned her she was scaring my brother), she went into prayer mode. After suffering head injuries, the doctors said Kenney might suffer some damage. Once again, the doctors were wrong. My brother is one of the sharpest men I know. Kenney is a walking miracle.

When I was a teenager, I was very sickly. I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease and began having seizures my senior year in high school. I was hospitalized several times, and I was constantly in the doctor’s office. At one time, I was taking at least 12 pills a day. In addition to that, my mama had read about the power of vitamins, so I was also given 5 or 6 vitamins daily. Still to this day, I hate taking medicine of any kind. My mama was faithful that this would not be my fate. She did more than just research ways of keeping me healthy, my mama prayed. She prayed when I didn't have sense enough to believe God could heal me. Moreover because of her example, I learned to pray for myself. In college, I vividly remember crying all night because I didn't want to be on medicine. I didn't want to have Lupus. I didn't want to have seizures. I cried out to God, saying it was unfair. I prayed to Him, telling him I didn't want to be sick. Shortly thereafter, I began to wean myself off of my seizure medication. I remember how terrified my mama was when she asked me why I hadn't asked her to send my medicine. I told her I wasn't taking it anymore. I have been off of medicine ever since. The only medicine I take now are vitamins. I have been healed of everything for over 20 years. I am a walking miracle.

We all are. I often tell my brother Kenney that I believe God has a purpose for each of us that we have yet to see. He saved each of us, and I believe that is for a reason, but that is story for later.

As I get older, I understand the need for more praying mothers. The greatest lesson my mama gave to me was the gift of prayer. Not only did she cover me with her prayers, but she taught me and my brothers to depend on it. She showed us that in her last days on earth. She prayed without ceasing for herself, but she talked to each of us, my daddy, Roy, Kenney, and me about getting our lives in order and praying. Everybody needs a praying mama.


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