For as long as I live, I will never forget my mom’s little black book.
It was just a little spiral notebook about the size of a pocket Bible, and it was literally filled with names. Whenever she’d meet someone with a need, or God would bring someone to her mind, she’d write their name in that book of hers. She kept it on her bedside table, and she’d read through that book day after day, praying for the people whose names she’d written down. By the time she passed away in 2013, she’d filled up probably three or four of those notebooks.
My mother was a prayer warrior like nobody I’ve ever seen.
She had every reason to feel sorry for herself. My dad split when I was two—I never knew him—so she was a single mom. She raised three kids by herself, and the one thing she always did was make sure we were in church every single Sunday. That laid a foundation of faith for me that I couldn’t run away from, even though, as I got older, I certainly tried.
When I got into my teenage years and started making bad decisions, she’d tell me, over and over again, “I’m praying for you,” and “God’s got great things in store for you.” Then, when I joined the military and ended up being stationed overseas, she started sending me devotionals in the mail. By that time, I was married, and my wife and I began reading those devotionals, and that, along with my mother’s prayers, is what God used to bring me back to him. My wife and I started following hard after Jesus, and that’s how I eventually ended up in full-time ministry back here in the States.
Now, I pastor a small country church about an hour outside Kansas City, and as a Southern Baptist corporate chaplain, I share Christ with 1,100 employees at a chain of automobile dealerships here in Missouri. It’s really a unique gospel opportunity—I’ve discovered that people who need Jesus are everywhere—and I have pretty much complete freedom to share the gospel in the workplace. In the short time I’ve been serving there, we’ve seen six people accept Christ.
I know now that “chaplain” and “pastor” are the roles God’s prepared me to play, and so much of who I am and what I do today is a direct result of my mother’s prayers and gospel influence. She was so faithful to Jesus, and I don’t know where I’d be without her witness and example.
My mom, Nancy Frances Pigott, was my Annie Armstrong.
Published April 21, 2026