Happy Mother’s Day, to all in the LB Universe! 💐

To observe this special day, let’s revisit a few moments where the unconditional love of a woman to her child—or her child’s love interest—shined through during critical times of need.

There’s nothing like the sacrificial love of an attending mother. We honor women who have provided nurturing for the better of their communities. May we all have felt it or expensed it to those we serve in any maternal capacity! 👑

Let’s start with our favorite basketball player… ⛹🏽‍♂️

‘Memba this?

~It was close to seven in the evening when my limo arrived in front of my doorstep. When I closed the door to my home in Alpine, I collapsed my back on it and pulled my phone out to tap a few keys. Then I raised it to my ear and waited on bated breath.

“Praise the Lord. Barrett residence,” her faux high-pitched tone now mollified me.

Sarah…” I breathed.

That cry was similar to the one I made for Zoey in front of her suite door, only this one loosened something in my chest. I didn’t know how the urge came about any more than I understood my draw to her. I’d always said I didn’t need a mother figure. That if I did, the big Man upstairs would have seen fit to give me a healthy, attending one. After all, I’d acquired a lifestyle most could only dream of. Life could be just that unbalanced. I was wrong. In no time at all, this woman had become a refuge for me. Sarah was my touchstone. Her peaceful, nurturing and docile demeanor served as a blanket of comfort to me.

We’d developed a peculiar pattern that made it easy for me to open up without crying to her like a bitch. Although to Sarah I wasn’t the sentimental momma’s boy that I felt I was. She had always welcomed my defective state since my split with Zoey while she was carrying Jordan.

“Stenton?” There was a pause because I didn’t know what to say. Within moments, she reminded me I didn’t need many words to communicate my mood to her. “It’s all in your voice, honey. Hang on.”

Then I heard her speak, presumably to Michael in the background. “I’ll be back…going to the prayer room to talk to Stenton.

My fucking heart cracked. The room she referred to was her oldest daughter’s former bedroom. The bedroom I’d extracted her from when I knocked her up out of selfish need. The bedroom she was now retreating to for purposes relating to a backfire in my senseless plan to keep said daughter near me for life. This was all fucked up. I didn’t deserve her hospitality.

“Father God, in the name of Jesus, we boldly come before Your throne of grace for Stenton. We thank You for him, and we ask that whatever it is that’s troubling him…”

The beginning of her prayer jolted my guilt. But I wouldn’t reject her care. No fucking way. I needed it. I needed someone looking out for me. I needed Sarah Barrett. I wasn’t a praying man—outside of what I did with Sarah, and Jordan at night, thanks to Zoey’s training—but I believed in whomever she called on on my behalf because that’s how much I’d trusted her. Maybe it was the fierceness in her tone as she went in for me. Maybe it was the longevity in her requests for my unspoken needs as I went about the house, unpacking until I fell across the bed while clutching the phone to my ear. It could have been when she ended with “In Jesus’ name. Amen.” when I felt that unyielding sensation of soothing. I didn’t know.

But when she was done and asked, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I answered, “No.”

There was no way I could share the debauchery in Dallas with her.

“That’s fair,” she muttered. “Is it bad?”

“Horrible. Probably the worst.”

“I think it’s time you talk to someone to help you sort yourself out, Stenton. Not a…shrink, but someone professional with a good moral compass. Someone you can identify with enough to be comfortable with sharing.”

“Who?” my voice was delivered muffled from my slack jaw resting on the mattress.

“I have someone in mind. A young man of God name Ezra. He’s in New York City. I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I want you to meet him. Would you do this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I slurred.

I heard her sigh of relief. “Good.” Then I heard the smile in her voice. “Now, can I talk about my favorite little baby’s latest developments to share my joy?”

I exhaled hard, rolling out my despair. The reference to my little man was a welcome distraction.

“Please do.”~

 

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✍🏽️ #PenningWithoutParameters ✍🏽️

💜 #ImGonnaMakeYouLoveMe 💜

www.LoveBelvin.com

 

 

 

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