A Mother's Love: Remembering Your Divine Power Within!

A Mothers Love!
To every woman who has ever kissed a forehead, dried a tear, said a prayer, or held space for someone to grow—THIS IS FOR YOU!💜
You are a mother, whether you've birthed a child or nurtured a soul. You are the keeper of compassion, the holder of hearts, the quiet healer in a noisy world. Your Love, a Mother's Love Heals. Today, we honor you—your sacrifices, your strength, and above all, your unconditional love.
In this special Mother's Day episode of Inner Serenity Coaching, Sista’ Joy celebrates the sacred power of a mother’s love—and how it holds the potential to heal not just families, but the world. With storytelling, spiritual insight, and soul-stirring truth, this episode is a gentle tribute… and a bold invitation.
 You are more than a memory-maker.
You are the love that heals.
The light that leads.
The soul this hurting world is waiting for.
Let us rise together—women of power, women of peace—mothers of the Earth.
 Listen now, reflect deeply, and share this sacred message of love and healing.
 Subscribe, comment, and join the movement of Unconditional Love in action.
With all my heart, I bless you. #amotherslove #healingthroughlove #innerserenitycoaching
#unconditional love #blackwomenhealing #spiritual podcast #mothersday amotherstouch                                                        

Creative Collaboration & Spiritual Guidance: Marcus Everlight

"Amazing Grace 2011" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Transcript

Hello, my beautiful soul sista… and welcome to Inner Serenity Coaching,

—a sacred space created especially for African-American women and women of African descent who are ready to rise higher, live more freely, and walk in the fullness of their divine power.

I am Sista’ Joy, your host, spiritual coach, sacred storyteller and guide on this divine journey of healing and rising higher. I’m here to walk with you, pray with you, and speak life into your spirit. Here, at Inner Serenity Coaching, we honor the wisdom of our ancestors, we walk in faith, and we grow strong from the inside out. Because when your inner world is grounded in Spirit, your outer world transforms in miraculous ways. Our motto is Inner Peace = Outer Power  and Divine Love is our Scepter of Power.

My beloved Sisters, although this podcast centers on the voices and healing of Black women, if your soul feels at home here, whatever your nationality, culture or color you may be—then you belong here as well, and I say welcome,

Because the wisdom we share is universal. And this love? This love is Divine Love for every woman who seeks her highest self.

My sistas we have a wonderful program for you today that celebrates all you Mothers both living and as I like to say, “Gone to Glory.” It’s about your Unconditional Love. The Love that is so needed in the world today. 

But before we begin my dear sisters,  I always like to start with a short prayer… Spiritual Law tells us that where two or three are gathered in my name, their AM I in the midst of them. So let us invite the Presence of God and the Holy Spirit to be with us today.

Beloved Father, Mother God, Great I AM That I AM, Beloved Jesus the Christ, Great Heavenly Host.

We welcome You into this sacred time.

Let Your love speak through our voice,

Let Your peace be felt in our hearts,

And may this message be a balm for those among us who are hurting,

A light for those who are seeking,

And a blessing for those who are ready to rise.

Father/Mother God, Beloved I AM Presence

We offer this time, this story, this truth—

As a gift of love, for the healing of the world.

And so it is… Amen.

My Beloved Sista,

You know, when I think about unconditional love… real love… the kind that reaches beyond words and holds you even when you're broken…

I think about the small things and the big things that mothers and mothering hearts do—those quiet gestures that shift the atmosphere, the selfless acts that change the course of a life.

It starts with the kind of love that sacrifices without hesitation.

It’s the mother who runs barefoot across gravel to rescue her child. The grandmother who works two jobs and still makes cornbread from scratch because “that’s what love tastes like.”

You don’t have to think about it—you just do it. You give. You protect.

And if you’ve ever felt that kind of love—you never forget it.

It smells like warmth… it sounds like the screen door closing as she runs outside to call you in… it feels like arms wrapped around you when the world’s too heavy.

Then, there’s forgiveness.

Not the easy kind. The Divine kind.

The kind that lets go even when the wound is deep.

Forgiveness doesn’t erase the pain… it just refuses to let pain define the story.

Sometimes, a mother teaches this without ever saying a word. You just feel it—in the way she keeps cooking, keeps praying, keeps loving… even after the hurt.

It’s in the softness of her eyes when she looks at someone who wronged her and still chooses peace.

It smells like sweet bread rising in the oven… like something warm and healing returning after cold silence.

Unconditional love… it's presence.

Not fixing. Not preaching. Just… being there.

Sitting on the edge of the bed. Waiting up all night. Holding a hand when words won’t come.

It’s the quiet rock we all need—the one that says, “I’m here.”

Sometimes, the presence of love is a favorite song playing in the background. Sometimes, it’s the sound of a chair gently scraping across the floor, because she came to sit beside you again.

It’s the smell of Vicks on her hands. The weight of her fingers rubbing your back when your little heart was hurting.

And oh… the power of encouragement.

“You can do this.” “I believe in you.” “I’m proud of you.”

Sometimes, those words are the only light someone has in a dark season.

You never forget the voice that told you your dreams were possible.

That voice… it becomes your own later in life.

You hear it when you step into rooms where you once felt unworthy.

It sounds like courage. It feels like wings unfolding in your chest.

Real love… it heals.

It’s in the way someone looks at you and sees past the mess.

They see the you that still exists under the pain.

Healing doesn’t always come with fanfare—it comes with quiet meals, long walks, hands that wipe tears without judgment.

It smells like eucalyptus and lavender. It feels like sunlight after days of rain.

It shows up and reminds you: You are not your mistakes. You are still worthy of love.

Then there’s love that builds community.

You’ve seen it. It’s the auntie who feeds the neighborhood kids.

It’s the elder who keeps peppermints in her purse and wisdom in her eyes.

It’s love that moves. Love that shows up to clean, to call, to cook, to comfort.

It’s the scent of collard greens on Sunday afternoon. The sound of chairs dragging across the floor at the church banquet hall.

It’s laughter echoing down the street, because love made people feel safe again.

And finally… legacy.

Not the kind that needs a statue or a name on a building.

The kind that lives in the way someone says grace. In the way a grandchild holds a baby.

It’s in the songs that keep being sung. The prayers that keep being whispered.

Legacy smells like old photo albums and worn Bibles.

It feels like a hand resting on your shoulder when you think no one’s there.

It’s the truth that love never dies. It lives on… through us.

As I was preparing this message… the Spirit kept bringing something back to me.

A poem I wrote many years ago… born from the deepest place in my heart.

A story-poem… about my mama.

About faith. About sacrifice. About the kind of love that lifts you out of danger, watches you across miles, and calls on angels when no one else can hear.

I’d like to share it with you now—not just as my memory, but as a mirror.

Because I know many of you will hear your own mothers in these words…

or maybe the mother you wish you had…

or maybe, the kind of mother you’ve become.

"Mama" — A Story-Poem for My Mother and All Good Mothers Everywhere

By Deloris Marie (Sista' Joy) Foster

She was born in West Virginia when times were really tough,

folks didn't have much money, and barely food enough.

In all the nation, it was one of the poorest states,

we survived tough times though,

'cause Mama had strong faith.

She taught us how to pray.

She prayed when things were good.

She prayed when things were bad.

She prayed and prayed and prayed

through all the times we had.

It was her faith in God

that helped to pull us through—

with little money or food to eat,

who else could we turn to?

"I look unto the hills from whence cometh my help,

My help cometh from the Lord," was the favorite prayer

Mama would often send,

as she looked up at the Blue Ridge Mountains

surrounding our shack down in that W.Va. Glen.

Many times, I saw her down on bended knee,

praying or singing "Precious Lord, Take My Hand,"

or "Just A Closer Walk With Thee."

Whenever trouble came, it didn’t stay too long

With Mama’s mighty prayers and songs,

the darkness soon was gone.

One summer day, when I was young,

I’d wandered off to play

along the mountainside—

I decided to climb the cliff

where danger seemed to hide.

Up, up I went,

climbing high to reach a mighty height.

But then the mountain became sheer cliff,

and I fell into a fright.

With nothing to hold on to,

I began to scream and cry—

if no one came to help me soon,

I was going to fall and die.

I was too high up for the firemen below,

when who should appear but my brother, Joe!

It seems Mama had come out

on the back porch that day

and told him,

"Go look for your sister.

Do it now—don’t delay!"

How did she know the trouble I was in?

Or that the only ones who could save me

were my brother Joe and "Junie," his friend?

"I look unto the hills from whence cometh my help,

My help cometh from the Lord," was the favorite prayer

Mama would often send,

as she looked up at the Blue Ridge Mountains

surrounding our shack down in that W.Va. Glen.

When I was a young married woman,

pregnant with child,

living a long way from home—

almost thousands of miles—

I had taken ill and was going into shock,

when someone came to my door

and started to knock.

Soon I heard the door open and,

in my misery,

looked up to see a stranger staring at me.

She was a long-lost relative

living just around the bend—

and my cousin,

Beverly Stokes,

a nurse—oh, what a Godsend!

Rushing me to the hospital

in just the nick of time,

after six blood transfusions,

soon I was fine.

Once again, Mama’s prayers and faith had turned things around.

Who would have thought that she could have found

a cousin living one block away

who just happened to be home

at that time, on that day?

"I look unto the hills from whence cometh my help,

My help cometh from the Lord," was the favorite prayer

Mama would often send,

as she looked up at the Blue Ridge Mountains

surrounding our shack down in that W.Va. Glen.

Even now, as my hair has turned gray,

in times of trouble I think,

"What would Mama say?"

And I start to sing,

sing and pray—

then I ask the Lord

to show me the way.

So many times,

Mama saved our family

from disaster—

with a wisdom

from beyond

that will live ever after.

She’s gone now,

departed this world—

but the banner she left

is forever unfurled.

I was with her

on that final day.

I heard her speak the last words

she would say.

With a look so serene

upon her tired face,

and a voice that came forth

from some other place,

she said:

"In my Father’s house are many mansions,

If it were not so, I would have told you—

I go..."

And she was gone—

carried away by the angels

to her heavenly home.

Hearing those words

and seeing her face,

I knew the Lord was with her,

and all was safe.

She had crossed over

to where she belonged,

and all earthly troubles

were over and gone.

I shall never forget that moment—

it shall always hold sway—

for I saw the grace of God

on that sacred day.

My Dear Family and Friends

We must teach our children always to pray—

to stay close to God come what may.

To be rooted in prayer

and walk sight unseen,

knowing the Great Master

controls everything.

This is our heritage,

our ancestor’s way.

We must not allow our children to lose it

in the darkness of today.

In this time of peril, with danger around,

strengthening their faith

will keep them aground.

What a great legacy to be carried on—

one that can weather

the most raging storm.

Thank you, Mama,

thank you so much,

for leaving this treasure

that will never rust.

"I look unto the hills

from whence cometh my help,

My help cometh from the Lord!"

If you’re listening to this and your mama is still with you…

Call her. Thank her. Forgive her if you must.

And if your mother is now among the ancestors…

Take a moment to close your eyes, place your hand on your heart… and whisper,

“I remember. I honor. I love.”

But let us not stop there.

Because there are children right now growing up without that kind of love.

There are women doing their best but never hearing “thank you.”

There are grandmothers raising grandchildren, mothers working three jobs, aunties showing up like angels.

And there are the lonely, the sick, the forgotten.

And yes—there is Mother Earth, groaning beneath the weight of our neglect.

She too needs our love.

So this week, in honor of your mother… or your own mothering heart…

Do something.

Write a letter. Hug a child. Visit an elder. Plant a tree. Speak a blessing.

Let your love become living water. Let it flow somewhere it’s never been before.

Because that’s how the world heals.

One act of love. One memory honored. One heart touched…

at a time.

Final Blessing:

Thank you for being with me today.

I pray you carry this message in your spirit long after the music fades.

And remember, beloved…

Your love matters. Your story matters.

And you are never, ever alone.

I’m Sista’ Joy… and this is Inner Serenity Coaching.

Until next time—

May love lead you,

May peace keep you,

And may the Great I AM bless you… always.

And remember Your Inner Peace = Your Outer Power

Love is  Our Scepter of Power.