I have always admired Rosalynn Carter.  Maybe it was because I grew up surrounded by women like her.  She married the love of her life, Jimmy Carter, followed him through his Naval career, and then, protesting, she returned to Plains, GA.  He made calls on the customers; she kept the books at the peanut warehouse.  She could tell him what was making money and what wasn’t.   My aunts and my mother were just like her.  They raised children, kept the house, cooked amazing meals, and kept the books for the family farm or business. 

I suppose I also admired Rosalynn Carter because people said my mother looked like her.  If not for Mama’s larger nose (inherited from her father), they could pass for twins. 

I admired the Carters because they were like us.  They farmed peanuts while we raised oranges.  They were from the small-town South, and so were we.  They were Baptists; so were we.  As the famed humorist Lewis Grizzard once said, “I voted for Carter not because I agreed with him but because he talked like I did.” 

When the Carters left the White House, it would have been easy for them to make speeches for big bucks and live out their days in comfort.  Instead, they returned to Plains, to the only house they ever owned, and found a way to have a second chapter of life.  At least one week a year, the Carters worked on a Habitat for Humanity home.  Rosalynn would be swinging her hammer alongside Jimmy, providing a home for a family that otherwise would be without one.  As she had done when she was First Lady, she advocated for the mentally ill, that they be treated with dignity.  The Carter Center set out to eliminate guinea worm, and she traveled tirelessly with her husband to work against this parasite.

Two things stand out most to me about Mrs. Carter.  In her autobiography, First Lady from Plains, she talks about her early life, how she strived to take care of her family after her father’s death, how she strived to be the perfect Navy wife, and how she strived to meet everyone’s expectations when her husband was elected governor. 

She had grown up in church and served actively.  Yet, something seemed to be missing.  She went to a conference put on by Bill Gothard.  She heard Gothard teach that a woman must do what her husband said to do, even if her husband told her to do something that was wrong.  In her heart, she knew this was not correct.  She had the courage to gather her things and walk out.

Shortly after that, she was part of a Bible Study at the governor’s mansion.  The Bible Study was for the women state prisoners who were part of the mansion’s staff.  The teacher of the Bible study said, “When you feel overwhelmed, release that God.  Just let it go.”  The Holy Spirit spoke to Mrs. Carter, and it was a spiritual turning point.  She learned to let go and trust God.

The second thing that stands out about Mrs. Carter was my one meeting with her.  My wife and I had just begun dating.  Mrs. Carter came to Louisville to speak at a women’s event hosted by the seminary.  My mother-in-law and some of her friends came up, and I was able to join them (though I was out of place!).  Mrs. Carter spoke in a soft voice about her faith, about how she sought to serve God in everything she did.  What came through was not the power of her personality but the calm conviction behind her words.  She was a woman in whom there was no guile. 

Mrs. Carter passed away in her hometown of Plains on November 19, 2023.  At the time of her death, she had been married to President Carter for seventy-seven years.  She served as a deacon in their church, caring for the congregation, especially those who needed love from the body of Christ.  She lived an amazing life.

Her life, and the life of President Carter, reminds us that serving others before we serve ourselves is a better way to live.  I often wonder if President and Mrs. Carter had more impact on the world while in the White House or if they had a greater impact on the world when they moved back to Plains and lived among their neighbors. 

In these days before the 2024 election, it is good to remember there are good people in the world who live out their faith in the glare of the media.  Mrs. Carter was one of those good people who embodied that old song we sang as children: “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine…”

Thank you, Mrs. Carter, for letting your light shine.