Author Archives: Rhonda J. Smith

The Greatest Mother-in-Love

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My mother-in-love, Andrina, and me

She cooks and cleans for him, calling him daily to make sure things are going okay. She helps with his bills and cares for his children. He’s spoiled. And each calculated act is meant to show him how much he needs her. This is not the woman of a single dad’s dreams, but the woman in a wife’s nightmares: the mother-in-law from the crucible below. I have heard this story about the antagonistic mother-in-law and the outraged daughter-in-law and the clueless son who just wants peace. I thank God that my mother-in-law is not my nightmare but indeed one of my really good friends. Andrina Smith, my mother-in-love, has been a good friend of mine for a while, but in the beginning I had my concerns.

The first time we met was at her church. She was in the choir so I would meet her after the service. She and her girlfriends seemed to be in a competition about who would meet me first so a few ran to introduce themselves and then with satisfying smirks turned to the choir to chide Andrina, who frowned back at them. All the jockeying seemed to be more about them and less about me. During our second encounter, she continually spoke to me about this Christian conference she intended and focused heavily on the evangelistic information. She didn’t catch my ‘don’t bother me’ cues so she kept sharing and sharing even though I wasn’t looking at her, my body was turned away from her, and I was trying to listen to the host who was beginning the program we were attending; she carried on, only stopping when someone needed her. And another close encounter was her trying to convince me of theological views regarding women that I believed to be untrue. All this was before I married her son. And I still did because I knew God sent him to me and I eventually figured Andrina was just being Andrina.

More talks, prayer and grace got us past these tough spots. I realized Andrina and her friends were happy to meet someone her son thought was worth meeting and she wanted to make sure that I wasn’t a heathen who would try to run him. I don’t know what made her believe I was okay, but when she invited me to a conference with her and her friends and to share a room with all of them, she won me over. I wasn’t even married to her son but with three days and two nights with her, there was no doubt that her expression toward me was real.

She is a take charge kind of woman, my kind of woman, and I love her so dearly. My mother-in-love is a fun-loving, soul-caring, powerhouse of a Christian woman who loves me like I came from her womb. We’ve traveled together, shopped together, prayed together, warfared together, cried together, laughed together and have totally disagreed. She is definitely someone that I would have chosen as my friend. I’m so glad God sent her to me, giving me another mother and another shero.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Main Attraction

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A Tribute to My Grandmother, Verlenia Thomas
For her homegoing service—February 22, 2005
She’s a star
Shining real bright
Beyond celestial clouds
Penetrating life
Making light from darkness.

She is there
Watching, waiting, hoping, praying that we get it
Understand the seasons of things:
A time to live and a time to die
A time to build up and a time to break down
A time to straighten up and fly
Fly right
Fly right
Get it right to meet her in glory.

She’s watching, waiting, hoping, praying
Beyond celestial clouds
Penetrating life
Making light from darkness
Waiting to be that angel who rejoices when a sinner becomes a saint.

She doesn’t just want you happy you knew her.
She wants you to know him.
She wants you to know Jesus.
Not a said faith. Not a going to church faith. Not an unsure faith.
A real faith. An intimate faith.
A faith like I know my career.
A faith like I know how to shop.
A faith like I know how to negotiate.
A faith like I know how to hustle.

She wants you to get to know him in the pardoning of your sins
To help you do away with your sins
To walk like her
To walk like Christ.

You’re not too young to do it
Not too old to change
You’re not all right just because you tithe or your name is on the roll.

She wants you to get to know him in the pardoning of your sins
To help you do away with your sins
To walk like her
To walk like Christ.

She was a classy lady, full of grace, a sage, organized, an administrator, great storyteller, a clown, recycler, dollar stretcher, fancy hat and shoe wearer, cook extraordinaire, loyal friend, full of common sense, a tower of physical, mental and spiritual strength. She was all that through God’s grace.

You want some
Come and get some.
Come to Jesus while you still have time.
And when it’s your time you will see her and all her watching, waiting, hoping and praying won’t be in vain.

Copyright 2005-2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Honoring a Spiritual Giant

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Over the weekend I took my friend, Kim, to see A Song for Coretta by Pearl Cleage. We agreed that the play, about the convergence of the lives of five women paying their respects to the deceased civil rights leader, was wonderfully complex, funny and thought-provoking. Kim thought, however, that a part that highlighted rapes in the Superdome after Hurricane Katrina may have been exaggerated. I wondered the same, but I had another exception to the play: the deification of Coretta Scott King.

The goddess talk, though little, bothered me. As the women discussed unresolved issues in their lives, one woman would say something like, “Ask Coretta. Maybe she can tell you what to do.” And I’m thinking, “But she’s dead. She ain’t saying nothing to you.” As I think about it, what they said, their attitude toward King, was more than deification but also suggested divination. I never mentioned this to Kim and am only saying it now because as I pay tribute to the women in my life this month, I recognize how easy it is to give God-status to someone who has inspired your life and not be able to let them go when they die. This my entire family did for my maternal grandmother, Verlenia Thomas.

My Sister Sharon & Grandma Thomas


The youngest of seven children, all her siblings looked to her for direction. She was the one who kept and nursed their mother in her home. She was the one they called for advice, prayer, money and meals. She was the strong one for them, her husband, my mama, aunts and uncles, me and the other grandchildren, her neighbors, church members and friends. Since she has died, some family members seem to be lost. We all know Verlenia: she may be your Grandma, Granny, Grammy, Big Ma, Big Mama or Nana. We delight at sitting at her feet, feeling her arms surround us, benefitting from the creation of her hands, and receiving wisdom from her mind. I know I did. But as I have reflected on my grandma’s life since her death in 2005, I recognize that she may have operated in her own strength at times, but I believe those times were few.

Yes, she was on her church’s steward board and missionary society and taught Sunday school, was her block club secretary, kept in touch with everybody, cooked meals for the needy and visited the sick. But these weren’t things she did to look good. She felt them her Christian duty. And I knew this because her 80-year-old knees would hit the floor every night and her shaky hand would hold a stubby pencil to write the notes throughout the pages of her Bible what the Lord spoke to her. She was in God’s presence, not just around His people. My grandma communed with God, not just fellowshipped with His people. She had a great reputation among people because of how she lived her life in public. She had a great reputation with me because how she lived in public was also how she lived in private. Verlenia Thomas was a holy woman and my great example of a model Christian.

Her life reflected “follow me as I follow Christ,” and as I remember her life I will indeed remember that she could love me because she first loved Jesus Christ and obeyed Him. Her life always pointed everyone to God. We often missed her direction because once we got to her, we felt like we were in heaven; everything seemed like it would be all right for eternity. But I know she wouldn’t want me to glorify her, just the one who she worked so hard to glorify. We must give honor to whom honor is due but always recognize that God is the reason anybody can do anything good.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

My Mama Said

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Me and my mama

My mama, Santranella Anderson, was quite the philosopher. These are some of the things she said that helped get me over:

1. Don’t be envious of others. Even though I didn’t put these in rank order, I think this may be the biggest lesson that my mama shared with us, her children. She would say, “Be happy you can be friends with somebody who has something you don’t.” This has helped me get along with so many people, including the ones who have been envious of me. I find myself ingratiating them, letting them know we can show love even when we want to hate. And if I weren’t friends with them or they still hated on me, my mama would make sure to emphasize numbers 2, 3, 4 and 5.
2. Celebrate with others. She would always say that we won’t get everything we want so when someone else achieves, celebrate with them. Be happy for them. “It takes nothing away from you,” she would say.
3. Know that you are good but may not always be the best. She had to tell me and my siblings this because for the first few years of life we were at the top of the class. She wanted to squash disappointment and despair before it happened. It worked for me. I had who would become my high school class valedictorians help me in honors geometry because I realized they were the best and I sure wasn’t. Till this day, I seek out the experts and thank God that I can.
4. Treat people like you want to be treated. The Golden Rule was golden in our house and prevented a lot of fights. This rule has also helped me to gain and maintain endearing relationships.
5. You don’t have to live with those people. She would say this when I couldn’t get along with my classmates, teachers or co-workers. Even though I would spend a majority of the day with them, she was letting me know that my refuge was at home. And what a wonderful refuge it was. I was always prepared to face my giants in the morning because I could look forward to coming home.
6. Share what you have. “Never be stingy. Everybody needs some kind of help,” my mama said.
7. Read between the lines. “I can’t stand when grown people can’t tell what’s going on and understand what’s being said by what’s not being said,” my mama would say. “Learn to read between the lines.” She taught us how to observe people’s body language, facial expressions, tone of voice and euphemisms. This tool has been invaluable as a writer, a minister and in all my relationships.
8. Nothing beats a failure but a try. My mama always said and lived up to this. Like I told you before, she has a lot of nerve and often gets what she desires because of this attitude. She wanted us to seek the best and not ever have a defeatist attitude.
9. Be yourself. “I can’t stand no phony people. Don’t be trying to be like nobody else. Ugh! Be who God made you to be. You look foolish trying to sound like or look like somebody else,” my mama said.
10. Walk straight and hold your head up. “Don’t be walking like you are afraid. You aren’t afraid of anybody. Be proud of who you are,” my mama said.
And what anchored all these was her constantly saying, “Trust God.” I’m glad I did trust Him, not just to help me with those 10 lessons but to help me believe that Jesus Christ is the only way to Him. I placed my faith in Jesus as my Savior and Lord in November 1995, not understanding how this salvation worked but trusting God for further revelation. God has shown Himself to me and given me a greater understanding of Him and my salvation. I thank God for all my mama’s lessons, but most of all for the command to trust God.

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Mama Love

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My Mama Santranella Anderson

My mama
My hero to the extreme
She’s had about 10 jobs
Two careers
Three vocations—
Not unstable
She’s just able to maintain that her anthem belter is Frank Sinatra
She does things her way.
From “My Heroes are to the Extreme” ©1997 by Rhonda Anderson

My mama, the “crazy” lady, the one with the wicked laugh
No matter where she goes she leaves an unforgettable path.
Her heart so big and ways so forgiving, her spirit teaches and keeps me living.
From “My Family” circa 1990s by Rhonda Anderson

She moves the earth with style and grace
Especially with that size 26 waist
And 40 hips
And busts so firm
You know the brothas wouldn’t leave her alone.
She was the life of the party
Personality beyond belief
But that all changed.
The crutches came.
From “Crutches” ©1995 by Rhonda Anderson

This is my mama, a woman ever-giving and beautiful inside and out. Don’t be offended that I call her crazy. She never is. But she is crazy: I just mean that she is a lot of fun and likes to laugh and there are few things she wouldn’t try or say. She got a lot of nerve and doesn’t scare easily. She had to be this way. She had three children in 2 ½ years.

Mothering us never seemed to take a toll on her even though she was sickly. She always made life fun for us. She orchestrated our dress up and in-house show times where we entertained her, and she demanded repeat performances when her girlfriends would drop by to say hi or for a counseling session and to eat. We’d have picnics at her bedside when she was too ill to cook us a meal. She’d tell us where to get a butter knife, crackers and peanut butter and we’d snack until my dad got back from work. We always had two cars, but she took us on bus rides and drives in cabs to experience other modes of transportation and other ways of life. And she would often “splurge” on restaurant food and outfits we didn’t need because “we ain’t gonna have it* anyway,” speaking of how fleeting money and other stuff can be. Though she never gave a lot of kisses and hugs but we always felt loved and safe, even when she would drive fast down a deserted path with no hands at our command in her 1972 Blue Chevy. “Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee,” she’d roar as we laughed and said, “Do it again, mama. Do it again.” We’d be on our way to a fashion show practice or dance practice or gymnastics. In later years, we might be going to a baseball or basketball game or some other school event.

She took us places and told us things that kept our heads held high and hearts open wide to others who needed the love she showed us. We didn’t go to church every week, but she laid the foundation for our faith even though hers is “not what I want it to be,” she says. My mama has a few crutches in her life, some needed, some perceived. Despite the lean, I love my mama for giving me life, sacrificing to make it good and paying the price to raise a healthy, happy and whole woman. At 41, I could say a lot more, but in that nutshell you have met my mama, the crazy lady, the one with the wicked laugh, and she is indeed my shero.

*not her choice word

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith