Grandmothers and mothers – share your faith!
This is my great grandmother
Born in the late 1870’s, she was one of twelve siblings (five of whom died in childhood). She, too, lost a son in childhood when he fell under a wagon wheel and was crushed. She helped raise my mother and uncle during the depression when my grandmother found herself alone after her husband – the grandfather I never knew – went out west to find work and instead found another woman.
I especially love this photo of her and her bible. I’m guessing that bible hadn’t been sitting on a shelf looking pretty and collecting dust. I heard a lot about her and I wish we could have met, but she passed away a few years before I was born. My only connection is my middle name given in memory of her. I do look forward to being introduced to her someday in Heaven.
Planting Seeds
This strong but quiet woman shared her faith with her daughter – my own grandmother. Though grandma was deserted by her husband and left to raise two young children in a small town in the Midwest during the depression, I never heard her speak poorly about the man who left her high and dry. She could have been bitter. She wasn’t.
Grandma wasn’t perfect. She enjoyed a good argument…sometimes a little too much. She was also a kind-hearted woman who loved her family and loved the Lord. She remarried when my mother was in her teens and even though the grandfather I knew was not a church-goer, Grandma was there every Sunday. She taught Sunday school. She attended weekly ladies’ prayer group. Even in a care center in her old age and not able to communicate well, she was able to sing hymns with the group.
Though I did a fair job running from God as a young person, Grandma made an impression on me. I didn’t realize it at the time but in looking back, seeds were being planted.
More Seeds
I was fortunate to live close to both my grandmothers growing up. I was doubly fortunate that they were both believers, though with different personalities. While Grandma B (my maternal grandmother) was outgoing and loved to socialize and play cards with friends, my paternal grandmother (Grandma G) was more introverted. A hard-working farm woman, she and my father cared for the farm after my grandpa passed when I was very young. Her time was often spent feeding cows, caring for her chickens and ducks, cooking/baking and puttering around in her vegetable garden or flower beds.
I visited her house frequently as a child. Grandma G and I would gather eggs. We’d feed bottle calves. We’d get out her craft stuff…the foam and glue and pipe cleaners and glitter…and make fabulous creations that she could stick on her refrigerator!
We’d pick flowers on Sunday mornings to take to church. Grandma G loved to share her flowers to make the church look pretty. I also remember spending nights with her and hearing her pray…always ending with “Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake; I pray the Lord my soul to take.”
Sadly, Grandma G spent the last number of years of her life slowly fading away due to the ravages of Alzheimer’s. Even when in her confusion she thought we were taking her to catch the bus back to college when in reality we were just returning her to the care center after spending the afternoon with us, I heard her whispering and I could hear her talking to God. She was praying! Her mind was fading away, but God was still in her heart.
Moms Plant Seeds, Too
This part is more difficult for me to write because as a teen and a young adult, I made it my mission to irritate my mom or disagree with her about everything. I thought I was so smart and that she was, well…not smart. As the Lord changed me, our relationship did improve, but the hurt I know I caused still haunts me. I was a slow learner when it came to following the Lord and I’m so very thankful He didn’t give up on me. I’m thankful she didn’t give up on me either!
While I don’t remember us reading the bible often as a family nor do I remember hearing my parents pray out loud other than when we said grace before our meals, my sister and I were brought up in a home with Christian values. We said our bedtime prayers as youngsters. We went to church and Sunday school. We attended VBS and youth group. When I hit my teens, it irked me that Mom still made me go to church. I had a boyfriend. I had better things to do on Sundays, or so I thought. I graduated from high school, moved to the city and quit attending. It was my life. I was having fun. I was independent!
The Seeds Grew
Before long I was married and a mom of a toddler living life my way which included many things contrary to how I’d been raised.
An then God got my attention.
My heart began its now decades long adventure into the exciting world of arrhythmias. That scared me (it still does sometimes). I started thinking about things like dying (uh…still do that too sometimes when it’s really on a roll). I thought about what dying might mean for my eternity – and that really scared me!
See…the seeds were sprouting!
But I was still all about having fun. Oh, the folly of youth! My parents enjoyed keeping their grandchild for the occasional weekend and I enjoyed the freedom. After a particularly naughty Saturday night, I woke the next morning (maybe afternoon?) and was confronted by more than just the typical hangover. I felt lost and empty and icky. I needed the Lord, and I knew it! I pulled out a bulletin a pastor from our neighborhood church had recently left at our door and I called the number on it. We started attending church and I was baptized soon thereafter.
I’d like to say it has been smooth sailing ever since. That would be a lie. God has allowed life to deal me its fair share of challenges and learning to lean on Him has taken time. I’m stubborn and a bit of a control freak (“pig-headed” says the hubby) and am still a work in progress in terms of learning to surrender all of me to the Lord. On many occasions I’ve taken one step forward only to stumble two steps backward. I do see growth over the years, though, and that encourages me. I am thankful that “The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Psalm 145:8)”!
Thankful for the Seed Planters
I feel like I’ve veered off course here a bit, so bringing it back to the initial point – the influence of Godly grandmothers and mothers sharing their faith.
In Paul’s second letter to Timothy, he recognizes the impact of Timothy’s grandmother and mother on his faith when he writes:
“I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.”
2 Timothy 1:5
I am appreciative that God deposited me into the cabbage patch I landed in as a baby. While there have certainly been others throughout my life who have influenced my faith journey, the foundation was built by my own mother and grandmothers.
Now I can see more clearly the wisdom of what they taught me as a child. Give your best to the Lord (bring flowers to his house). Sing hymns (it’ll make your heart happy). Go to church (we serve an awesome God who deserves our worship and we benefit from the fellowship with other believers). Pray often and be in the Word (may our bibles look as worn and well-loved as that of my great-grandmother). Relationships don’t grow without putting effort into them and our relationship with our Lord should be the most important one of all!
Grandmothers and mothers – go plant those seeds!
