Being Delores Lee Ellis III

On this day, the day of my birth, I honor my mother, Delores Lee Ellis, who raised 12 children alone, teaching us each the importance of love, faith, hope, peace, respect, humility, persistence, grace, music, giving, art, sharing, reading, intention, education, language, purpose, destiny, and choice.

Historically speaking African American mothers, perhaps all mothers indeed, have always been the backbone of the family, the one who held things together in spite of loss and depravity, enduring hardship as a good soldier. My mother was such a one. But one who was both mother and father to her 12 children, all by the one man she "loved next to Christ." Bitterness never entered in as we were growing up. Instead, she single-handedly raised us with honor and integrity, taught the value of education, and showed us how to stand gracefully in the face of defeat.

I never saw my mother cry, yet I know she most certainly did. I never saw her in pain, though we know she most certainly had it. I never heard her complain, though there could have been much to complain about. When asked, "how are you?," her response was inevitably the same, "blessed of the Lord." You see, the base of my mother's strength was her confidence in God. In spite of everything, including her three-day weekly journey to dialysis, which sometimes resulted in immense weakness, and her battle with diabetes, she believed that God would not put anymore on her than she could bear--this after raising 12 children alone. Every struggle was meant to end in victory and her love for God and sheer determination propelled her on.

My mother was a mixture of grace and tenacity, gentle as a flower and inflexible as steel, if needed. When dealing with opposition she always smiled graciously, but extended her hand in mercy giving whatever she had to give to pay bills. When growing up she needed only to look at you to express her dissatisfaction. When giving whippings with a firm hand, she gently spoke to us with each stinging lash. In fact, we never heard our mother raise her voice. She simply stated her desires and we followed suit. But it's not like we didn't test her. We did--especially me, but rarely if ever disrespectfully. She always got the better of the debate spoken so in soft tones. She disarmed us with her grace; even when we were raging mad we succumbed to her wisdom, beauty, and her highly refined reasoning abilities.

What a beauty she was! She was, in fact, the most beautiful of wild flowers that endured in spite of inclement times, standing beautifully in the face of high winds, the beating sun and thunderstorms. Can you imagine raising seven boys and five girls alone? We were the apple of her eye and we knew it. She watched us carefully, not allowing us to mingle with the wrong company, insisting that we get good grades and keeping television watching down to a mere one hour per day. Since she loved national and international news, we could watch the news along with her which included in-depth analysis which we were invited to participate. She enjoyed hearing our opinions and teaching us about world events.

Nightly reading and family prayer were essential to our childhood. She spent her last buying books and encyclopedias for us and every Christmas gift and birthday present included a book of some kind. When we heard that familiar song, "Remember Me, Oh Lord, Remember Me," we knew that was the call to prayer and no matter where you were or what you were doing, each of us respectively and respectfully stopped and followed the lovely voice for prayer. It is prayer that enabled us to finish college, become entrepreneurs and professionals, and enter the ministry full-time. In fact, we are all, in spite of our various professions, in ministry as pastors, evangelists, and missionaries. I guess we all went to Seminary of Delores Lee Ellis; her very life was such.

Being Delores Lee Ellis II

"On My Journey Home"

I chose the rocky road in life leading me home to the fold. Feeling quite suddenly all alone I could not the distance see. I'll just travel step by step and take it patiently. I lift my eyes towards the distant plain, a traveler there to see. Focusing my eyes I looked over the moor, that face I've seen before.

I said, "Oh, Shepherd, is that you who left me all alone?" His sweet voice said, "Child take my hand; you're a mighty long way from home. I'll guide you there. I know these plains, though rocky they may be and with each faltering step you'd take my strength shall support thee.

I want to let you know dear one before you take my hand there will be grassy plains alright, but often sinking sands. Dark great mountains rough, and steep that ere you'll fear to climb. I only ask of you my child just keep your hand in mine. Sure there'll be glimmers along the way all pointing to the fold of temporal lights to ease your plight before you reach your goal.

Again, I ask of you comrade just keep your trust in me and side by side we'll journey on for better roads we'll see. I felt my burden had met defeat as the Shepherd walked with me. He spoke in such assuring way, his voice low and sweet.

We traveled onward homeward bound the path seemed harder to stride, he said, "Hold fast and press your way you'll make it if you try." I said, "Oh, Shepherd, you are the door, the way, the truth, the light, there's nothing else for me to do, but continue in this flight.

My feet were weary at this point. I longed so much to rest. I'm sure he sensed my agony. He said, "I'll give thee rest." I wanted more to understand just what he meant by rest, for as for my own point of view to stop here would be best.

I spoke to myself in psalms and hymns contended henceforth to wait, pressing my way for the Shepherd's sake until I reached the sheepfold gate. I felt strong firmer clasp as the traveler held my hand then just as he had warned before we'd reach the sinking sands.

I was overwhelmed quite suddenly by the Shepherd's amazing strength. I relaxed myself and felt at ease in wonderfully safe defense. I have no fear, for now I know I'll never be left alone as long as I heed the Shepherd's voice and his path my choice.

--Delores Lee Ellis

(My mother wrote this poem some 40 years ago. Often times I would awake in the wee hours of the morning on the way to the bathroom. Passing her cracked door, I would find her writing with a large suitcase on her bed which during daylight was lodged underneath. This is where she kept her poems. I never disturbed her.)

Being Delores Lee Ellis

Mother to Son (and Daughter)

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

--Langston Hughes

Today is my mother's birthday. She passed nearly three years ago and we miss her incredibly. This 5’ 4” dynamic and loving woman of rich African and Cherokee heritage had 12 children who all "rise up and call her blessed."

There is no one person that I can say exhibited a better example of love, forgiveness, compassion, grace, persistence, and ethics. She was also incredibly intuitive and a brilliant writer and composer of songs.

We, her children, are immeasurably blessed because we were hers and she ours.

"Honor your mother and father."

We honored and loved her and she taught us to love and honor him, even though he was not present; she had every one of us with the one man she "loved next to God," but raised us alone.

We honor her through our work in ministry nationally and internationally as ordained ministers, missionaries, and chaplains.

We also honor her through our careers as professionals and entrepreneurs.

Her spirit lives very much in each of us.