Oct. 14, 2006 - Missing Someone You Barely Remember
Today, I was listening to an old Michael W. Smith song on my iPod. It's called Kentucky Rose. Maybe it's because I'm from KY, but I've always loved that song. It reminds me of my grandfather. He died when I was 11. We had lived far from him until June of the year he died. We moved near there in June, and he died in December. I became a Christian that summer, and since my grandfather was a pastor of a small church, he baptised me. It is one of my favorite memories.
He was a gentle man. I never heard him raise his voice. He was patient- although I'm sure now that we grandkids almost drove him crazy at times. He was a preacher, a farmer and a tailor. He and my grandmother never had much money. They had 4 children that lived to be adults. My mom had been a very sickly child and they raised her well, making lots of sacrifices to meet her medical needs.
He spoke of God's love like it was something he felt every day. He took care of my grandmother- who never learned to drive. I remember that he would run the vacuum cleaner for her. Back then, men didn't do much house work, but he did.
He had a huge garden every year, and he and my grandmother canned all the vegetables they would need until the next harvest. He always made sure there was plenty to give away, too.
I was 11 when he died. I still remember what people said about him at the funeral. He was a very short man, only 5'1. I remember so many people standing up saying they had never met a man who loved Jesus more. They didn't know anyone who had a bigger heart. They didn't know anyone who was so quick to spread the love of God around. It was the deep south- and my grandfather was white. But several African American people stood up and said that he loved them, just like he did everyone else. He invited them to come to his church, in Alabama, when no one else would. I remember a waitress from Woolworth's speaking of how he always gave her a good tip and told her Jesus loved her, too. He took me there with him as often as he could. It was his treat for us! We would stop and get a cherry coke there. That is still my favorite drink!
I hope one day, my children and grandchildren will have memories of me that are similar to this. I hope that the love my grandfather had for me when I was a child spills out to my children. I hope they see the love of Jesus in me, just like I saw it in my grandfather.
Psalm 103
17 But from everlasting to everlasting
the LORD's love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children's children
Comments
Dec. 6, 2006 - ????
Posted by Sonya
Hey Lori, where have you been? Hope everything is ok with you and the family!
Let us hear from you!
Blessings,
Sonya
