My mother was a personal friend of God's. They had ongoing

In the radiant and soulful words of Della Reese, “My mother was a personal friend of God. They had ongoing conversations,” we hear the voice of reverence—an awe not only for the divine but for the spiritual power of motherhood. Beneath her gentle humor lies a profound truth: that some souls live so closely with faith, so attuned to the sacred, that their very lives become a dialogue with the divine. Reese’s words paint the image of her mother as more than a woman of faith; she was a bridge between heaven and earth, one whose relationship with God was not ritual but friendship—a continual exchange of love, hope, and guidance. In that image lies the essence of both motherhood and holiness: the quiet, steadfast communion between human hearts and the eternal.

Della Reese, known for her extraordinary voice and her work on the show Touched by an Angel, spoke often of her deep spiritual upbringing. Her mother, Nellie Mitchelle Early, was a woman of strength and unwavering faith, who taught her daughter to see life not as chaos but as conversation—an ongoing dialogue with something higher. The origin of this quote lies in that sacred inheritance. For Reese’s mother, prayer was not a performance; it was a way of breathing. Her faith was not confined to Sundays or sacred texts—it was a living, daily companionship with God. Thus, when Reese said her mother “had ongoing conversations,” she was describing a soul so full of trust and belief that divinity felt close, familiar, and ever-present.

The ancients would have recognized such a soul as one chosen by grace. In every age, there have been those who walk with the divine as with a friend: Abraham, who spoke to God beneath the stars; Moses, who met Him on the mountain; Hannah, who prayed so fervently that heaven itself moved to answer her. These were not figures of ritual, but of relationship. They spoke, and they listened. They asked, and they obeyed. Della Reese’s mother belonged to this same lineage—the women who pray not only for themselves, but for their families, their communities, and for a world in need of light. To be a “friend of God” is to live in faith so genuine that one’s entire life becomes a prayer in motion.

Consider the story of Susanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles Wesley, the founders of Methodism. She bore nineteen children, endured hardship and loss, yet every day she found time to pray—sometimes two hours at a time, her apron drawn over her head to make a chapel out of the noise of her household. Her children grew to change the world through their faith, but it was Susanna who first taught them to listen for the voice of God. She, too, had “ongoing conversations” with the divine, guiding her children not by command, but by example. Like Della Reese’s mother, her communion with God was her greatest inheritance to her family.

In this, Reese’s quote reveals the sacred legacy of mothers—that they are often the first to teach their children the language of prayer, the discipline of hope, and the rhythm of gratitude. The mother who speaks with God does not merely pray for miracles; she becomes one. Her faith shapes her home, her patience becomes strength, her love becomes grace. Even when the world offers nothing but struggle, she finds solace in divine conversation. And from that communion flows wisdom—wisdom that does not shout, but whispers: “All will be well, my child. All will be well.”

To say that her mother was a “personal friend of God” is to recognize that faith can be intimate. It need not be distant, lofty, or cloaked in mystery. True faith is not fear of God but familiarity with Him. It is speaking to the divine as one speaks to a beloved companion—with honesty, with humor, and with trust. Such faith transforms the soul and radiates outward, touching all who come near. The mother who walks with God leaves behind not monuments, but hearts that believe, spirits that endure, and lives that shine with peace.

Let this truth be passed down: cultivate a friendship with the divine. Do not pray only in crisis, or worship only in ritual, but live as though God walks beside you. Speak to Him in your weariness, in your gratitude, in your laughter. For in doing so, your life becomes a sanctuary. And to mothers especially, remember that your quiet conversations with heaven echo in the lives of your children. Your faith teaches them how to stand when the world shakes, how to hope when the night grows long, how to trust when answers are far away.

Thus, in Della Reese’s tender remembrance of her mother, we find not only affection but revelation: that the truest faith is not distant or doctrinal—it is alive, relational, and constant. The mother who speaks with God daily carries heaven within her, and through her, others learn to hear its voice. So let us live as her mother did—not only praying to God, but walking with Him, as friend with friend. For in that sacred friendship lies the strength to love, to endure, and to illuminate the world.