How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
"Lord we know you know your business. We know we are but a speck of dust in the corner of your eye. But Heavenly Father, grant me permission to speak to you this morning, Sir. Now, Lord, you made the mountains. You made the forest and the streams."
[…]
Merciful Father, you even made the child your faithful handmaiden Patience is carrying.
And Lord, you made the tornado, too. You made everything, including your humble servants.
We understand you already predicted out comings and our goings. The hour and the minute of our birth. And Lord, if you wag your head on us you know the very second of our death. Father, if you wag your head on this unborn child, how can we watch it experience your wonderful light?" (1.9-13)
Mother Barker turns to God as the twister approaches the cotton field where she is working with, amongst other people, the very pregnant Patience. Helpless in the face of this intensely powerful weather phenomenon, Mother Barker places her trust in God.
Quote #2
The foreman, bound by a rule as old as human life—that man should not see the mystery of birth for it would be like staring God in the face—left the women and walked toward the grove of blackjack trees. (2.24)
So that's why men used to avoid childbirth like the plague… it would basically be sacrilegious.
Quote #3
The pain crouched low, drew back, and struck Patience so hard that although it was noon, she felt God light the night with lightning and wake up the world with thunder. (2.23)
For Patience, the experience of giving birth is like God igniting an epic storm in the middle of the night—it is like being "woken up," thrown into "light" from darkness. Again, then, we see God and epic natural phenomena intertwined.
Quote #4
They were particularly interested in the new baby, Abyssinia. They women of Ponca City considered themselves midwives-in-common at her birth.
She filled their conversations.
"Remember it like it was only yesterday," one of them commented.
"Born in the cotton field."
"Came here marked, too."
"Marked by fire!"
"Baptized with the fire!"
"Foreman built the fire."
"Boiled water for the birthing."
"Patience spread out on her pallet of cotton sacks."
"And here comes our baby."
"An ember jumped out of the blaze and branded the child.
"Marked at birth!"
"A birthmark."
"Placed the new child on a soft sack of cotton."
"Laid her in a cotton manger."
"A black girl in a manger." (3.1-17)
As the women of Ponca City recount Abyssinia's birth, religion just keeps coming up. Interestingly, at first Abby is called "marked," which has some pretty devilish biblical implications. Saying she's "marked by fire" doesn't exactly do much to shift this, either—when people think of the devil, flames leap to mind.
But then the language shifts: We're told Abby's "baptized," which is a practice to prevent damnation (yay), and then she's compared to the baby Jesus when the women call her "a black girl in a manger." Instead of an ominous arrival, then, Abby is sort of like the second coming of Christ for the women of Ponca City. No pressure, kid.
Quote #5
"Mama's making me something."
"What color?"
"Blue. The prettiest blue."
"Child, did you know blue is the color of the will of God? Is she about finished?" (6.92-95)
Abyssinia and Mother Barker are discussing what Abby will be wearing to the church anniversary party. Patience is making Abby a blue dress. Just as Abby is compared to Jesus when she's born (check out the quote right above this one to see this happen), again we see her compared to a gift from God.
Quote #6
Abby sat transfixed, the song going all inside her to the very edges of her nerves and clinging there. The music settled in behind her eyes where it threatened to spill out down her face, the way beautiful music sometimes did.
"When I die, hallelujah, by and by…"
The melody reached the rafters, and Abby's mother joined the dance, stretching out a circle. Every time she tried to sit down, the organ moaned and screamed louder. The song reached out and held her, then let her go, then gathered her up again. (8.13-15)
Shortly after Strong leaves Patience and Abyssinia, the church anniversary service and party take place. In a moment of feeling incredibly lost and ungrounded, this hymn holds both Patience and Abby tight, "transfix[ing]" Abby and "settl[ing]" in her body, and "gather[ing]" up Patience.
Quote #7
The two women knew how looks could heal. They extracted honey from their distilled glances.
Every day one of them would take up the sentry of mercy, would stand gazing down with abundant compassion and assurance at the bewildered child.
When looking, each woman imagined a miracle. Mother Barker imagined the flower ceremonies of spring. Patience imagined the sparkle in a bird's throat. Mother Barker saw a fierce, abiding affection tempered by the fire flickering from the sacred shrine of her heart. Patience meditated on energy from the indelible spirit stored beneath the rich colors of her skin and hair.
It was a time for healing. A double ritual. A duet of waiting. (9.55-58)
After Abyssinia is raped by Brother Jacobs, Patience and Mother Barker turn not to God and formalized religion, but to folk-based beliefs and practices. Rooted in the miracles of nature—flowers, birds, fire, skin—the women take turns holding fast to the belief that Abby will heal, reassuring her with their gaze and energy instead of Christian prayer.
Quote #8
Over at Abby's house, Mother Barker had set up a corner of the room to apply her folk medicine to Abby's body.
"The lightning bugs are out tonight, Mother Barker," Abyssinia said.
"Now that's the truth, honey," the old woman agreed as she applied snuff spit to the stings on Abby's face.
[…]
"But how come the lightning bugs are here?"
"You mean down here on the earth?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"For the same reason we're here, daughter. He put them here."
Mother Barker pasted the snuff spit between Abby's braids. (12.8-19)
Here we see Christianity and folk medicine—which we've seen tied to folk spirituality (see the previous quote to check this out in more depth)—interspersed with each other. As Mother Barker tends to Abby's wasp wounds using folk techniques, they discuss God and his creation of lightning bugs.
Quote #9
Abby nodded her head yes. She found her voice again. "But the worst part was I felt like I was being spit on by God."
[…]
"Like I must have done something mean and sinful. Something so wrong. Something so wicked." She stopped walking. "I must have tempted Brother Jacobs."
"No, you didn't. The devil got into Brother Jacobs. God wouldn't allow…"
"How do you know?" Abby screamed. "It didn't happen to you!"
"I know God wouldn't…"
"You don't know anything!" Abby screamed at her friend. "God knew about it!" Abby said this last part so loud and painfully that Lily did not know what to say.
[…]
That day Abyssinia gave God's gift back to Him. They had told her that her singing was a "gift from God."
She did not trust any of His gifts, she thought. She did not want His gifts for she could not tolerate His punishments. She did not want His presence in her life for the absence of His grace was awful. (13.33-43)
As Abby understands God, he was part and parcel of her rape. Sure, she may have derived strength from God in the past, but leaning on him isn't worth it now that she knows what it's like to have him punish her. She is done with the big guy in the sky.
Quote #10
"There are two things children must remember," Patience advised.
"What is that?" asked Abby.
"Fire is warmth, and fire can burn."
"And when it burns…?"
"Yes?" the women echoed in a chorus.
"The holy water of women can mock the fires of hell," Patience witnessed.
"Turn its groaning rages to singing embers," another whispered. (30.19-25)
Basically, God can do whatever he wants—women are powerful and resilient, capable of transforming bad into good. So don't mess with women.