Category: Family

I burst through the front door, “Hi, Grandma! I’m here.” A pint-sized girl with a head full of curls, I looked forward to spending a week with my grandma on our family’s Iowa homestead.

“Hi, sweetie,” my grandma called back from the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. Don’t forget about the big can of V8 in the ‘fridge. I got it just for you.”

Even though I never liked V8 — Campbell’s Tomato Juice was my thing — she bought a can for me every summer, looking forward to my visit. And every evening, I’d force myself to drink a glass, just to see the smile on her face.

The next morning, Grandma and I headed out for breakfast at Perkins in her rusted green pickup truck. Widowed at fifty-seven, my grandma hated to be alone. She and my grandpa had been married for just short of 40 years when he passed away from pancreatic cancer. Now my Grandma Norma ate out twice a day, whether by herself or with one of her lady friends. As we pulled out of the driveway and onto the gravel road that led into town, Grandma stealthily applied bright red lipstick to her thin lips. Suddenly, she burst into the first verse of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” in her strong, soprano voice. I joined in, off-key and happy. Grandma always told me that singing kept her awake, which I’m sure it did, but I knew she liked it, too.

Entering the comfortable restaurant, the cashier greeted us. “Good morning, Norma. Is this the granddaughter you’re always telling me about?”

“Yes, Beth. This is Kim. She’s my companion this week, helping me out at the antique shop. This girl is fearless. She walks up to all the customers. And smart as a whip! She shows them around, rings up their bills and even makes their change! I don’t know how I manage the store without her.”

After downing a heaping platter of chocolate chip pancakes and a large glass of tomato juice, I headed out to the truck with Grandma for a quick trip to the bank. Wherever we went, Grandma greeted everyone with a charming smile, a pleasant word of encouragement and two listening ears. It seemed like she knew everyone, and I was proud that this was my grandma.

On our drive back to the farm, she reminisced about all the good times she and my grandpa had enjoyed together, working the farm, raising children, singing duets at church. She shared with me about a gentleman friend who’d recently courted her, going so far as asking her to marry him, but that she just could never love anyone like she’d loved my grandpa.

Opening the backdoor of her antique shop, we were greeted by the smell of paint thinner and the jingle of bells hanging from the doorknob. Grandma, never one to sit still, set right to work caning an old chair she had bought at one of many auctions. I, too, kept myself busy admiring the countless knick–knacks covering every surface of the two-story converted barn, hoping for a customer to come in and make a purchase.

After our dinner trip to Perkins, Grandma and I made our way to the couch in her simple ranch-style home. We sat quietly side-by-side, my grandmother working on her latest cross-stitching project and me gazing at the walls covered with framed black-and-white photos of days gone by. My personal favorites were the 8 x 10 photos of my grandparents as two young lovebirds. I could’ve stood there for hours. Their eyes simply oozed with love for one another. I thought, “Someday, I want to love somebody like that.”

And one day, a dozen years later, I got to put into practice those lessons in friendliness my grandma had taught me. Needing directions to a nearby event, I walked right up to a handsome young man and introduced myself. Eight months later, when I married that special man who my eyes oozed with love for, my grandma pulled me aside and placed a framed cross-stitch in my arms. The words “Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God” were carefully handstitched next to a silhouetted bride and groom. Today, with our 25th wedding anniversary on the horizon, I’m thankful for a grandmother who taught me to be friendly to strangers and faithful to the one you love.

Dedicated to my grandma, Norma Myers.  This story has been submitted to Chicken Soup for the Soul with hopes for publication.  You’re free to share it, but please link back here.  You can read my last two stories about my Grandma Norma here and here.

Let me tell you the story of three women: one named Doubter, one named Doer, and one named Faith. All three women had their fair share of sin, and all three women had their fair share of good deeds.

Doubter had no interest in God. She lived her life for herself, with little regard for morality or eternity. She made no effort to earn a place in the kingdom of God. Doubter thought faith in God was a crutch invented by the needy and foolish. She didn’t think she was so bad – she’d never killed anybody or anything. She figured if there was a god, he’d welcome her into eternity, because she was at heart a good person.

Doer, on the other hand, lived day in and day out in fear of God. Her life was filled with church activities. She attended a ladies Bible study and served at the homeless mission. Every week she read her Bible, prayed, and taught Sunday school. Doer worked hard to earn a place in the eternal kingdom of God. Yet, she could never trust God enough to accept the gift of salvation that Jesus was offering to her, finding it easier to trust in her own works to earn her own way.

And what about Faith? Faith, too, participated in plenty of church activities. Faith, also, read the Bible, prayed, and served the poor. But, Faith had a completely different heart than both Doubter and Doer.

Faith was not motivated by trying to earn God’s favor. She trusted that God was her good Father who loved her no matter what. She wanted to have a close relationship with her Father, so she followed Him wherever He led.
Faith lived in reverential fear of God, seeing His holiness and her depravity. She refused to be deceived into thinking she was a good person who deserved a spot in Heaven. Rather, Faith recognized her own brokenness and lived a life full of thanksgiving to God who rescued her. Faith trusted God to deliver her daily in the here and now, and in eternity.

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:4-9 ESV)

Which of these three women are you?

Do you see yourself in Doubter or Doer or Faith?

Which one do you want to be?

God is inviting you to receive a new name. How does Faith sound?

“The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name.” (Revelation 3:12 ESV)

Yesterday, I shared about the Christian heritage of my grandmother. (Click here to read it, too!) Today I’d like to share a story I’ve written about some lessons that my grandma taught me. I’ve submitted this for a Chicken Soup for the Soul publication and am praying it gets selected. Enjoy! (You are welcome to share it in its entirety, but please link back here!)

I remember my Grandma Norma’s sparingly stocked kitchen cupboards. As soon as I arrived for visits, she would take me straight to her kitchen to show me a gallon of vanilla ice cream in the freezer, a gallon of milk in the fridge, a box of cereal in a cabinet, along with a big can of V8 that she’d picked up “just for me.” She’d encourage me to make myself at home, enjoying a bowl of cereal or ice cream anytime I wanted. She taught me to value people more highly than things.

I remember many, many trips to Perkins, usually two in the same day. She’d ask for the “senior special” and I’d order a heaping platter of chocolate chip pancakes and a large glass of tomato juice. What I remember most about those trips is my grandma’s obvious pride in me. She loved to introduce me to the widow-friends she’d meet there for breakfast, as well as every waiter and waitress in the place. She knew them all by name. She’d share with me pieces of their lives that she’d learned on other recent visits to Perkins. She taught me to be a good listener.

I remember singing full volume in Grandma’s old green pickup truck while we drove around town. My grandma took me along wherever she went. While she drove, we’d belt out classic children’s songs, one after another. “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad,” “Three Little Ducks,” and “B–I–N–G–O” were among our favorites. Grandma insisted it helped her stay awake – I’m sure it did! – but it also gave us something fun to do in the car and I looked forward to it. I could still hear her beautiful voice ringing in my mind as I carried on the tradition with my own children many years later. She taught me to make the most of every moment.

I remember my Grandma Norma driving 50 mph down the dusty, gravel road from her house. With the steering wheel in one hand and a stick of bright red lipstick in the other, she’d peek occasionally in the rear-view mirror to make sure it was applied just right. Then, she’d draw a brush a few times through her naturally wavy, gray hair and she was ready to go. She taught me to always look my best.

I remember helping my grandma sell antiques at her two-story barn turned antique shop, “The Wood’n Wheel.” She encouraged me to be bold. I learned to walk right up to adults of all shapes and sizes, to ask if they needed any help and show them around. She trained me how to ring up a customer’s bill and make change. She taught me to be confident.

I remember that whatever errand we had to run, Grandma greeted everyone she met with a charming smile, a pleasant word of encouragement and two listening ears. It seemed like she knew everyone, and I was proud that this was my grandma. She taught me to be friendly.

I remember spending many quiet evenings looking at her walls covered with framed black-and-white photos. I loved looking at the pictures of my mom, and her sister and brothers growing up on our family farm. But I especially loved the pictures of my grandparents when they were young. Their heartfelt love for one another radiated out of those old photos. Widowed just before her 40th anniversary, she taught me to value love and devotion.

I remember being just on the verge of womanhood and going shoe shopping with my grandma. I was a petite young lady with size 5 feet. My grandmother towered over me. She was seven inches taller and wore shoes seven sizes larger! She walked me right into a boutique shoe shop and asked the clerk for help. Grandma was looking for the largest size they carried, and I was looking for the smallest. She taught me to appreciate myself just the way I was.

I remember many years later when I was a young mom with two children. Grandma Norma had come to our home for a visit. She absolutely refused to “be a burden.” Night or day, she could always be found working away at something – whether sweeping the sidewalk or washing the dishes. Now it was my turn to take care of her, but, no, she was still my grandma, teaching me lessons I needed to learn. She taught me to be a hard worker.

I remember near the end of my grandma’s life, making the long drive to visit her at a nursing home. Even though she’d lost her ability to speak clearly, she greeted everyone with a smile. Her face radiated peace like you don’t see in many people in her circumstances. Just before heading back home, Grandma got my attention, struggling to communicate with me. Holding tightly onto my arm, she looked longingly into my eyes, mouthing, “I love you.” And I knew she did. She taught me to tell those you love how you feel.

And I remember the very last time I saw her. When it was time for me to leave, Grandma was sitting in her wheelchair in the nursing home’s dining room. She waved to me through the great glass windows as I walked to my car. I knew I might not see her again. I looked in at her and waved back. She waved and waved, grinning at me through white teeth, and her trademark red lipstick. She taught me to believe that “a joyful heart is good medicine.”

Yesterday was the 12th anniversary of my grandmother’s passing – 12/12. My Grandma Norma was a very special person in my life.

Grandma Norma came from a long line of Christians. This song, written by one of my grandmother’s relatives, attests to her Welsh ancestors’ love of music, family, church, and Jesus.

My great-great-great-grandmother, Margaret Rowland, was a woman of faith whose “supreme ambition seemed to center in her children — to provide them with all possible advantages for an education, and to train them for useful Christian lives” despite severe trials, including the loss of her first husband when she had six young children. She “lived a life of service and devotion, not restricted to her own family, but many in the neighborhood where she lived had occasion to feel grateful for help in time of need.”

Margaret Rowland’s daughter, Harriet, (my great-great-grandmother) was blessed with seven children and almost 50 years of marriage to her husband, Isaac.

Harriet, too, was a Christian mother dedicated to helping others, especially her grandchildren — like my grandma! My great-grandmother, Anna, is pictured at the top right. She is the pleasant looking one with a sweet smile.

Anna and her husband, Will, had four sons and one daughter. My grandma Norma was that one daughter.

Anna and Will were blessed with over 50 years of marriage and a house full of grandchildren and great grandchildren.

My grandparents were married on Christmas Day, 1938, with my grandmother carrying her Bible and wearing her great-grandmother’s brooch. (Aren’t they handsome? Did you notice how tall my grandmother is? I take after my dad’s side of the family.)

My grandfather passed away from pancreatic cancer shortly before they celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Here they are in front of their restaurant, “The Purple Cow” with my older sister and me.

I have often wondered if my own faith has its roots in the faithful women who went before me. God heard their prayers, blessing them with generations of Christ-followers. As Paul wrote to Timothy of the faith that dwelt in Timothy’s mother and grandmother (2 Timothy 1:5) “and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.” (2 Timothy 3:15)

I’m praying for these four right here. My greatest desire for them isn’t to be the smartest, richest, most famous, or most popular. It’s simply for them to know and love Jesus, to live for Him and His glory.

Allow me to encourage you, mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, future mothers! You can pray for your sons and daughters, even for those not yet born. God hears you.

You can bless the generations to come by sharing the good news of the gospel and the truths of the scriptures. God will bless your efforts.

You can faithfully pass on your faith to the next generations. God is faithful. You can be faithful, too.

Heart check: How’s it going? Are you praying? Are your sharing?

TWIG

Dear friends,

Are any of you like me, with grand plans for all the things you’d like to accomplish for the Lord?  I love Jesus so much and want to do ALL the things.  But, I’m just one person with just 24 hours in a day and those days are already full.  So, when God began impressing on me to reach out to the ladies in my neighborhood, I began to pray for God to send someone to work alongside me.  He did.

Through the wonders of Facebook, I found a fellow Christ-follower who also wanted to reach out to our neighbors.  She offered to make and distribute flyers to invite the ladies over, while I opened my home to host it.  Debbie even went so far as coming over 3 hours early to decorate and set up!

God blessed me with this passage conveniently scheduled that morning in my Scripture Typer app.  1 Corinthians 12:4-7 ” Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord;  and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

I love to talk, to pray, to share the good news of the love of Jesus.  And I got to do just that within the comfort of my beautifully decorated home.  Thank you, Jesus!  And thank you, Debbie!  And thank you to my 2-dozen neighbors who stopped by!

Friends, God didn’t design His body to operate as cut-off individual members.    We have different gifts, different passions, different ways to serve.  We need each other on purpose!

Heart-check: What God-sized goal is in your heart that you need someone to partner with you?  How are you trying to operate in your own strength, separated from the body of Christ?

Let me leave you with something I wrote several years ago, but seem to revise every year!

Keeping Christ in Christmas – Every Day of the Year

When a friend posted this question on an online forum, “How do we keep Jesus Christ and His birth at the center of our Christmas celebration?” I gave a lot of thought to my answer. This question is particularly important to me because I wasn’t raised in a Christian home, and yet, my family celebrated Christmas. We hung stockings, decorated a Christmas tree, exchanged gifts and played Santa, just like every other red-blooded American family.

By the time I was a teenager, I was an outspoken atheist who loved to argue with my Christian friends, and yet, I had little understanding of the Christian faith. I did not understand that Christians believed that Jesus Christ was God in the flesh and that Christmas was celebrated to remember the day He was born on earth to live as a man. It was not until I was 21-years-old and had many heated debates with a Christian young man (who later became my husband) that I heard the good news of the gospel – that I could be forgiven by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, turning away from my sin and following Him.

So, with that background, let me encourage everyone how truly important it is to keep the birth of Jesus at the focus of your Christmas celebrations. In response to the question, “How do we keep Jesus Christ at the center of Christmas?” the answer is to intentionally seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God, setting your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. (Colossians 3:1-2)

Yes, we festively decorate our home and Christmas tree. Yes, we buy gifts for our children and other members of our family. Yes, we drive around town and look at pretty Christmas lights. But, no, we don’t spend days and weeks putting up and taking down decorations. We refuse to go into debt feeding our kids’ appetites for stuff and our own appetite to impress others with our earthly possessions. And, no, we do not pack on December with a dozen holiday events because, truthfully, they take our family’s eyes off the true gift of Jesus and just add busy-ness to our already full lives.

After following Jesus for over twenty years, though, I have learned that the Christian life is so much more than a list of do’s and don’ts. It really is a living relationship with the great Creator, Ruler of the Universe, and Lord of my soul, so please do not see my suggestions as added rules and burdens for you to follow. Evaluate your own advent activities to see whether they are drawing your family to a closer relationship with Jesus or pushing you farther away. Truly, when you seek the Lord with all your heart, you will find Him. Jesus is truly our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His Word is a light to our feet. You can trust Him, and you can trust His Word.

With that said, here are some choices we’ve made to help us not lose Jesus amidst our Yuletide celebrations –

• We taught our kids from a young age that playing pretend is fun, but it’s just pretend. God is real. Santa is pretend. The Bible is real. Fairy tales are pretend. Yes, we put out cookies for Santa. Yes, we stuffed stockings. It was fun! But our kids knew the truth. I decided that God wanted us to be truth bearers and I wanted my kids to trust that Mommy and Daddy always speak the truth. That didn’t mean we couldn’t play pretend – but they knew we are pretending.
• We try to have most of our gifts bought by December 1, so our minds are not consumed by shopping. The stress of finding “the perfect gifts” is not good for the “Christmas spirit.”
• We limit ourselves to three gifts per child. This limits not only the money, but also the time and energy, we spend on Christmas gifts.
• I force myself to go to bed at night. If it’s not done by 10:30, then it doesn’t need to be done. Tomorrow is another day. A tired mommy is a cranky mommy.
• Each of our four children chooses a gift for each of their siblings and parents and they use some of their own money to buy them. This helps them focus on giving, rather than just receiving.
• When it’s time to open gifts, we each take turns giving our gifts to the recipients, rather than the recipients taking their gifts.
• We enjoy a daily time of prayer, scripture reading, and discussion for the 25 days of advent.

Which leads me back to the original question: “How do we keep Jesus Christ and His birth at the center of our Christmas celebration?”

This certainly is a good question to ask, but may I suggest that the better question is this:  “How do we keep Christ at the center of every single day of the year?”  365 days-a-year we can choose to seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God, setting your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. I’m praying that this holiday season, and for all the days of our lives, that we would, trust in the LORD with all our hearts, leaning not on our own understanding, acknowledging Him in all our ways. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

You can download your own copy of Keeping Christ in Christmas here:
Keeping Christ in Christmas 2018

When my nephew, Brady, passed away on May 5, 1997, at 16 months of age, God showed Himself so mighty and real and present in a myriad of ways – one of which being in the words of Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.”

You can watch my testimony video on YouTube for a deeper explanation of God’s great ministry through this great tragedy.  (My nephew’s story is told from about the 16-minute to 23-minute mark, if you don’t have time to watch the entire thing right now)

For 21 years now, Matthew 5:4 has been a very special verse for me.  But, this year, on May 5, the anniversary of Brady’s death, I decided to do a little study into Matthew 5:5 which reads, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  Initially I didn’t see any relevance in this passage to Brady’s death, but as I continued to search and study and meditate on this verse, I’d like to share with you what I’ve found.

That word, “meek,” is the Greek word praÿs (Strong’s G4239).  It is an adjective meaning, “mildness of disposition, gentleness of spirit.”  On BlueLetterBible.com they have a feature called “Outline of Biblical Usage” for many of their Greek words.

Meekness toward God is that disposition of spirit in which we accept His dealings with us as good, and therefore without disputing or resisting. In the OT, the meek are those wholly relying on God rather than their own strength to defend against injustice. Thus, meekness toward evil people means knowing God is permitting the injuries they inflict, that He is using them to purify His elect, and that He will deliver His elect in His time (Isaiah 41:17, Luke 18:1-8). Gentleness or meekness is the opposite to self-assertiveness and self-interest. It stems from trust in God’s goodness and control over the situation. The gentle person is not occupied with self at all. This is a work of the Holy Spirit, not of the human will (Galatians 5:23).

God had indeed comforted my sister, in giving her a second son just one short day before her older son’s passing … and even more so by sending her His Holy Spirit to be her eternal comforter …

But, God has also given her the ability to be meek, to learn to rely wholly on Him, trusting in His perfect goodness and His control over every situation, accepting His dealings with us as good.  Praise His Name.  And Thank Him for His living and active and true and good Word.

TWIG