My Prayin' Grandma

I was reading a book last night called "Why Not Women?" written by Loren Cunningham and David Joel Hamilton. The chapter began with a reference in 2 Timothy where Paul reminds Timothy of the faith of his grandmother Lois, and his mother Eunice. That got me to thinking about my own grandma, and how she constantly prayed for her family, including me.

Most Christians in my generation or age group had/has one~ a prayin' grandma. I remember when I was not yet in my teens, Grandma was setting before me the pattern to follow: prayer. I remember her saying about a very sick relative who lived in another state, "I can't do anything for them but pray-the Lord will heal them according to His will."

It's strange how a person can live so long and not realize the impact that some person has had on their life. That's what happened to me just a few minutes ago! As soon as the realization came, I had to start writing it down.

What I learned from my grandmother, mostly in my teenage years, was how to pray with humility and sincerity~just me and God. I learned patience and trust by watching and listening to her talk about her answered prayers. I learned sympathy by seeing her cry when others were in pain. And I learned that if I didn't have anything good to say about anyone to keep my mouth shut.

In retrospect, I am realizing what a giant pillar she was in my Christian foundation. She showed me how to love, how to live, and how to conduct myself in my Christian walk. I am realizing she was a warrior, a fighter for the cause of God and a great believer in her Jesus~her Savior and Redeemer.

Just as Paul told Timothy to remember the 'unfeigned faith' and to 'stir up the gift of God', that is what the Holy Spirit did for me last night. I have been reminded of the unhindered love she showed me growing up. I have the secure knowledge that she said many prayers for me; she travailed for my birth into the family of God.

There have been times in my life when I have been called 'determined' or 'perservering' and I always attributed it to my independence. (Being born on Independence Day seems to ingrain the word as well as the attitude into a person.) No one ever told me that that was what we as Christians were supposed to do. Paul says that when we've done all we can, to stand. Is that not determination~to not let the enemy knock us down, even when we can't see the next step? My grandmother lived it in front of me, and showed it to me in every aspect of her life. No wonder I felt such a loss when she died. Only now, eight years later, do I know the full extent of why.

She was, and still is really, my silent but strong fortress. I see that the path that God has had me walk for the past several years, she gave me the training for. Early in my Christian life, I would not have been able to 'stand' had I not seen her do it in my younger years.

I would hope she would look down as part of that great cloud of witnesses and see the spiritual growth that I've undergone in the last few years, as well as the understanding that came last night. I feel as though I've found the last piece of a puzzle~a puzzle that was started many years ago. I remember a dream I had almost twenty years ago. In it I was riding in a horse-drawn wagon. Everything was monochromatic except the jacket I was wearing. It was red. She was a prophetic dreamer, as am I, so I knew that anything red was almost always associated with Jesus and His shed blood. When I told her the dream, she nodded, smiled and simply said, "Remember, red is for love."

Yes, it is, Grandma. Yes, it is.