by Traci Paseur
The year 2000 is now twenty-four
days old. What modern times we live in . . . And, my, how these times have
changed. I have a birthday approaching and my age is so very insignificant. It
doesn’t matter because times have changed and I find it discouraging.
I was raised in the church and am so very grateful that my grandmother made a way of life for me. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and Wednesday nights were for worship. No questions asked. As a child, I willingly admit to that burst of excitement if for one reason or another we didn’t go to church. But, for the most part, my childhood days of worship were happy times and I felt the comfort of God’s word even then. Sunday afternoons were spent around the dinner table enjoying a wonderful meal that my grandmother had prepared. During those days, you didn’t dare take a bite until the blessing was said. I’ve seen my grandmother give thanks over a bowl of beans and a piece of cornbread. Where have the blessings gone? I ask because I don’t know. Maybe we don’t want to offend anyone by offering a blessing and we don’t want to embarrass ourselves shamefully by doing the honor of giving thanks. We should give thanks that we even have the opportunity to give thanks.
I just can’t remember a day that I spent with my grandmother when she didn’t refer to God and His glory. I remember, not so long ago, driving with my grandmother on a beautiful fall afternoon. The leaves were turning their beautiful shades of orange and red, and my grand-mother said, “Only God can make a tree.” Of course, I had noticed the fall colors, but paid attention instead to my needs, my schedule, and basically, my life. My life at that time had absolutely no room for, or any need to be mindful of “God’s trees.”
On a similar outing on a spring day she began to admire the big white fluffy clouds in the sky. She commented on how beautiful they were and that hey looked like “you could sit on top of them and let your feet hang off.” I can still hear those words, but the daily commute to punch the time clock has created tunnel vision that blocks out God’s wonders. Where has the appreciation of God’s beauty gone? Again, I ask because I don’t know. Perhaps the drive to be there and get it done has blinded us so much that we don’t allow ourselves the moments to remember just how small we are in God’s beautiful universe.
My yesterdays are filled with God, His blessings, and a good map with clear directions to His door. My today is filled with anguish over the fact that I didn’t lose the map, but intentionally put it away in favor of going my own way—My own way, which has left me lost and without purpose. My tomorrow, I pray, will be filled with hope and reassurance from God that I may take up His map and make my journey through life on the right path. Thanks to my grandmother, I know how to read a map.
Growing up, I can remember my grandmother making us turn away from the television when a beer commercial came on. In recent days, watching anything on television with my grandmother has just gotten to the point that I become embarrassed. And fearful of what she might see simply because you just never know what’s coming. Today’s world needs grandmothers. Someone to speak openly about God and someone to remind us continually of His plan for us and to remind us of His blessings.
So now I ask, “Where have all the grandmothers gone?” I’m just not sure. I do know that my grandmother has started her journey home. Just a few more hours and her work here will be done. Soon, there will be one less grandmother and one less teacher. Thank God for grandmothers who are sent from above. I hope God has a beautiful cloud awaiting my grandmother’s arrival. One that she can sit on and let her feet hang off. While she’s there I hope she will look down at me, through God’s trees, and see me reading my map, the map that will lead me to God’s door, and hopefully, to a place on a the cloud beside her, forever.
-Airport church of Christ bulletin
Valdosta, Georgia