Fifty years ago, my late mother was expecting her first child: Kenneth John Board. It was the year 1975 and my parents were still a newlywed couple, married in the summer of ’73, and they undoubtedly had a beautiful dream for what their lives together would be like. Perhaps unbeknownst to themselves, it was the Lord who, by His grace, was building their family as He had a plan and purpose for them. Motherhood (& fatherhood) was central to God’s plan to glorify His name through our family for generations. Here are some reflections on my mom’s life that were originally shared at her funeral and also serve as a golden anniversary tribute to her motherhood.
A brown-eyed girl named Sue Anne was born to Marshall and Evelyn Williams on October 28th, 1952, as the fourth of their seven children. After graduating from Crown Point High School (IN), class of 1970, Mom went on to marry Kenneth Ray Board on July 28th, 1973. The story goes that they met in the parking lot of a roller rink when she pulled up in her white Ford Pinto next to Dad’s 1969 jet black Ford Torino. Upon seeing this car packed full of girls, apparently his first thought was “Don’t touch my car!” They were engaged to be married shortly before Dad left for Marine Corps Boot Camp in Camp Pendleton near San Diego, California. After the wedding at Dad’s home church, Trinity Lutheran in Hobart, Indiana, they established their home in the front apartment of Marshall’s Place.
Over the years, I’ve described this joint as the local biker bar in my hometown of Cedar Lake, Indiana. “Invaders” by the likes of “Puke”, “Doughboy”, and “Barron” would all simply address Grandma Williams as “Mom.” In fact, I spoke with a deacon at Lighthouse Baptist Church near the Conference Grounds who ministered to Aunt Nancy and knew “Ma Williams” as “one tough cookie.” I also hear that Grandpa Williams, as a decorated WWII Army veteran who honorably served in the Philippines, would carry a sidearm on his hip. In my mind, perhaps drawing from old family photos, I picture him donning a massive belt buckle, genuine cowhide leather belt, denim jeans, flannel type of shirt, and a large stogey/cigar protruding from his mouth. Understanding this context, helps our family connect the dots to our own lives and Mom’s (& Dad’s).
Between the tavern and my parent’s apartment was none other than the classic restaurant known at least to our family as “The Pizza.” Even before Mom worked in the kitchen for Uncle Rick at “Lago’s”, she spent plenty of time there cranking out her classic homemade pizzas among other local or at least family favorites like fried chicken, beef sandwiches, and French fries.
As a kid, growing up in the 1980s, I distinctly remember feeling lost when Mom would be gone working down at “The Pizza.” A vivid memory sticks out, of me gazing out of my parent’s screened-in porch into their yard full of large oak trees, perhaps forlorn because Mom was gone, but in deep reflection over the big questions of life. I remember thinking that there was a time when I didn’t exist and therefore wondering what life was like back then before I was born and of course considering what the purpose of my life was all about.
After giving birth to my older brother, Kenny, in 1975, I was born in 1980 and it always sticks out to me that Mom had two miscarriages, one before me and one after me. Perhaps this is why several years ago she wrote the following in a birthday card, “From the day you were born and before you came, I knew you were extra special” [I’m told that she wanted to name me after the actor from the TV show CHiPs, Eric Estrada (who has a testimony of faith in Jesus Christ as Savior, by the way), but it turns out that I didn’t strike her as an “Eric” but as “Timothy.” She continued by saying, “you were a good baby. Eat, sleep, and poop. We could of gave you a box or rocks or a box of 0 [nothing] for Christmas and you would of loved it and found something good about it, you always had a way of being happy with a vision for the next adventure in your life…and with lots of hugs…I love you and your wonderful family.” I share this with you as an insight into her heart as it was a special blessing to mine.
A few of my favorite childhood memories of Mom are her practice of reading aloud to me at bedtime and rubbing/drawing on my back. The former was highlighted in a story I wrote back in the first grade called “A Great Day” where I mentioned that at the end of the day my mom read to me my favorite story about Jesus dying on the cross. Precious.
Mom gave birth to my younger siblings, Sarah and Matthew, in ’88 and ’93 respectively and I remember much about each of those events. In the spring and summer of ’88, I remember Mom having something like a “Precious Feet” pin on her purse when we were in the vestibule of Trinity Lutheran Church in Crown Point where our family would worship on Sundays when I was a kid. This “Precious Feet” pin was the exact size of the actual feet of a 10-week-old baby yet in its mother’s womb. Mom cared about the sanctity of human life from our earliest of days which was perhaps especially meaningful to her when she gave birth to my younger brother at the age of 41 years old.
That summer and into the fall, I remember bunking out with Mom in Aunt Nancy’s old bedroom because Grandma Williams needed considerable care after a debilitating stroke. In contrast to Dad peeling out of the driveway in his 1985 Ford Escort 5 speed with Mom laboring and ready to give birth to Sarah, I recall waking up on November 4th to find Mom gone to the hospital with Dad as Matthew was born on that day.
Speaking of babies, there’s a humorous story that captures Mom’s indirect way of doing things when I once asked her about the “birds and the bees” subsequent to a debate with friends over whether or not you had to have sex in order to have a baby (she had already read aloud “How You Got to Be You” and her and Dad incredulously exclaimed, “We don’t know how this happened!”, when they were expecting Sarah and perhaps Matthew too even though they would say something about “good sweet corn” and romantically look at each other with a grin). Her answer was simply, “Well, they can do things in laboratories now.” My little heart was undone as I rolled over on my top bunk and cried thinking, “How am I ever going to do that?” Six grandkids and five miscarriages later, I think we have it figured out. In the mercy of God’s faithfulness, she is now singing the hallelujah chorus in the glory of heaven with the five children that Lori and I lost as well as the two her and Dad lost many years ago.
Back during Mom’s first bout with cancer, we were expecting baby #5 whom we named Grace SueAnn. It was through that very difficult season of her life here on this side of eternity that Mom grew in deeper appreciation for the transforming power and sufficiency of God’s grace in Christ Jesus. For that very reason, we named Mom’s fifth grandchild Grace SueAnn (albeit with a slight spelling mistake on my part).
After losing her siblings, Aunt Bonnie in 2011 and Uncle Kevin in 2015, my mom’s spiritual life seems to have taken off in earnest as she sought to be more intentional in her walk with God. During that season, she was listening to Moody Radio out of Chicago and heard a program featuring a book on family life titled, “The Most Important Place on Earth: What a Christian Home Looks Like and How to Build One.” She purchased the book and eventually called me up to share some precious words of affirmation and encouragement from her heart to mine.
Our kids knew her by the likes of “Grandma Pudding” as she would also inevitably have oodles and boodles of second hand (& third hand) foodstuffs for us from Trinity’s food pantry, my cousin Andrea’s strange boxes of milk with a peculiarly long shelf life, or much fresher fare from Great Oaks Banquets including the perennial favorite, mostaccioli with Italian sausage. Of course, I would be remiss to mention how she could fry up fish at virtually any hour of the night after Dad and some of us would return from being gone for hours fishing out on the Red Cedar Lake in northern Wisconsin where our family has gone since my dad was a boy.
Whenever we would be traveling through town on various trips for gospel ministry, even though we would not necessarily expect it, Mom would graciously have plenty of food ready to feed our brood of hungry children. In fact, at Thanksgiving, despite not feeling up to cooking for the holiday, she quickly whipped up hot dogs and chili for us on our way back home to Indy and welcomed us all for an unexpected visit.
Upon being re-diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 2020, Mom and I enjoyed some precious time together in prayer as she affirmed that God is good despite the brokenness of life oftentimes hurting really bad. In fact, at Christmastime we were reading or reciting portions of Luke chapter 2 and singing some Christmas carols which was immediately followed by Elijah breaking right in on his ukulele to the song “Living Hope” which was sung with festive gusto. Before taking our leave, with my arm around Mom and her head on my shoulder, we prayed together with tears in my eyes even dripping on her. “I love you, Mom.” “I know you do,” she said. Precious memories.
After arriving back home, Mom called us on FB chat the next Thursday and we enjoyed a nice time talking with her about things like jammies, books, and stuff. She asked, “Are you going to sing for me?” Sure enough we sang “In Christ Alone” for Mom with hearts full knowing that her only hope in life and in death is indeed Christ, our Lord and Savior. This was (& is) the passion of Mom’s heart which she sacrificially demonstrated in her own unique way and many may not have understood this during her life on this side of eternity.
Mom once told me that “you’re really an evangelistic preacher” but understanding what drove her to do all that she did is something that she herself would boldly proclaim herself if she could speak to us now especially having experienced the glory of God’s presence in heaven. She was apt to agree that “we’re all sinners but God still loves us” and it was that love that drove the Lord Jesus Christ to the cross of Calvary where He bore the undiluted wrath that we all deserve because of the depravity of our hearts.
Almighty God does indeed love us and lest we believe the lie that He accepts us as we are and therefore live blinded by such deception may we take heed to ourselves according to the truth. God’s Word teaches that He actually accepts sinners despite who we are and enters into our lives by His Spirit to transform us and to conform us to Christ especially as we live in dependence on Him and His Word. This miracle of God’s grace transpires when a hell-bound sinner, condemned under the wrath of God, is broken in awestruck humility before God’s absolute holiness, the vertical reality of sovereign majesty, and through repentance and faith turns to the Living God in Christ Jesus. At the very heart of salvation is trusting Christ as Savior by believing that He “died for our sins…and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor.15:3-4 NKJV). Glory to His Name!
The blazing center of God’s glory vested in the Person and finished work of Christ is the light that shines into the darkness of our hearts when His Spirit regenerates us from death to life in Christ as a gift of His matchless grace received through faith alone. “Pay Day Someday” is a reality and our “Final 4 Words” will indeed be Jesus Christ is Lord but for many it will be too little too late (Phil.2:9-11). This is the sobering reality that hell is for real (Rev.20:15). Whether or not Mom was ever able to share her heart, in this way, with many of those who attended her funeral that day, this was indeed the passion of her heart as Christ came to serve not be served as He is our only hope in life and in death. May this also be a reality in your heart and life this day and throughout eternity to the praise of God’s glory forever!
Regardless of your life situation, my prayer for you is that these reflections on my mom’s life in commemoration of the golden anniversary of her motherhood would encourage your heart. A walk down memory lane is prudent as the Lord uses such a stroll in ways that are often beyond reach otherwise. This is especially true amidst the daily responsibilities of life in a work-a-day world. Life moves so fast. Lest we forget, let us always remember that we are heirs to the past and ancestors to the future. May God’s people learn all we can from those who have gone before us and intentionally pass on resolute biblical conviction through family discipleship as the church and home co-champion the next generation for His glory and our good. Soli Deo Gloria!
In Memory of:
Sue Anne Board
October 28, 1952 – January 13, 2021
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NKJV
