I called her Mom

I called her Mom….
She was Sister Murrell to everyone else.
She was strong, yet gentle and loving.
Authoritive but still understanding.
She was a leader with a purpose.
She was tenacious and uncompromising.
Many revered her, a few feared her.
I cuddled with her and held tight to her hands.

Her hands were so smooth, so cool and gentle.
They instantly brought peace to my little soul.
They were always busy, doing the Lords work, Cooking, writing, drawing,
Healing, touching everyone who entered her life.
They made me paper dolls and handkerchief girls during long church services.

She always had a hanky in her purse or hands.
Beautifully embroidered and smelling sweetly of her perfume.
She would wipe her brow as she proclaimed his word,
Boldly and energetically as she stood behind the pulpit
or walked among her congregation. I've seen those hands heal, caress and feed the hungry, sooth a fevered brow and bring deliverance and always submit obediently to her God. Sometimes those hands would stop in motion and a certain stillness would come over her, Then she would point, and the lost would come home and the demons would scream and flee.She was as bold as a lion and walked in total authority no weakness, no fear only Faith. The hairs would rise on the back of my neck and I feared her God.


Her voice was strong, and sure no hesitation, She would sing, preach, pray and prophesy.yet she would still sing me lullabies and read me stories and recite beautiful little poems for me. She would scold me or praise me and that voice would always teach me, always reason with me and always be in my heart and head. I would hear that familiar voice praying, weeping and groaning for me.
Up into my teen years that voice would correct and reveal the secrets of my heart and lay bare my rebellion and that precious voice would lead me to repentance and lead me in the way everlasting. After I was grown and married that voice was still there speaking wisdom, warning and bringing me life.
She would bless, teach and love her grandchildren with the same beautiful songs, poems and stories she had taught me. The law of wisdom was on her tongue and life sprung forth from her speech.

Her feet were steady and steadfast.
Beautiful were they as they proclaimed the gospel. They never wavered to the left or to the right they stayed on the straight and narrow path. They followed her Lord unwaveringly from The ghetto neighborhoods of Akron Ohio, to the hills of Kentucky and the mountains of West Virginia. They danced unashamed before him and strode purposely into his will.
They would grow old and weary and were lost to her in the end but though she may have lost their physical use she would continue to lead others into the paths of righteousness.

She had the heart of a lion, Fierce, loving protective and brave,
She was a loving shepherd to her sheep but would fight the enemy with an unflinching fierceness and pursue with abandon any lost sheep that wondered away, yet her tender heart was broken in humility to her God.


Her mind was quick, sharp and deep, her intellect amazing those much better educated than herself.She had an unexpected whit and sometimes a corny humor. She would pen hundreds of songs, hymns, poems and sermons. Her memory was amazing to me for she had memorized most of them and It seemed to me she knew the whole Bible by heart, there was always a verse on her tongue for any occasion. She would publish a little known paper called the “Way of Holiness Messenger.” It would touch hundreds and cross continents carrying her simple message of holiness and prayer.


Her will was unbreakable and unbending bordering on stubborn.
There was no dream she felt that was unattainable and no challenge she would not meet head on.She was intimidating, yet surprisingly approachable.
This mother of mine was a warrior and yet I never saw fear on her face. She was always waiting, listening and recognizing his voice. She was never confused or confounded.But still she was a lady, Manners were of the utmost importance and she was marked by modesty and holiness.

She lived a life that I have never seen matched.She prayed but not like most.
It was her lifestyle, in a prayer room in her home.
She talked to God and would spend hours listening and then for days furiously writing then teaching and preaching. I look back and that is what marks my memories most prayer, Tearful, broken and heartfelt prayer. She lived in another realm that I could not easily enter so I would wait sometimes for hours, it seemed to me.
She lived wholly for eternity, this world it's wealth, wisdom and entertainment ignored by her.

She suffered, she was disappointed, she was reviled, maligned, misunderstood and she was mistreated but she never blamed her God.She faced the death of her young child from a vicious disease yet she praised her God,She faced sickness, betrayal and loss but still she stood strong.

All this but the most amazing thing of all to me was her submission, to her God, to her husband and to her call. AS powerful of a life she lived, she remained humble, open and loving. She would spend her last days still reaching for the lost, still teaching from her chair, still writing,although her eyes had grown dim then on her death bed as many, many sons and daughters crowded in close she was still touching
with those smooth ageless hands still holding us together, wiping away our tears and soothing our broken hearts.The voice, weak but still clear, prophesying, blessing us and singing and worshiping.A light in her Eyes and excitement in her voice I knew she longed to leave here,she never was of this earth, she had Tapped into eternity long ago and it was only now that she would truly be at home for this world was not her home,She only passed this way....