Lois and Eunice

Reading 2 Timothy the other day, I stumbled across two names that, in the past, I've probably overlooked.  Sometimes I tend to skip over names, assuming they may be insignificant.  Yet, there are no filler words in the Bible and every name in the book has a purpose.  

It was only one sentence  of scripture but had a profound effect and has stuck with me ever since.  In fact, it took me back to my childhood and replayed a favorite memory of being with my Grandma.

Remembering your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy, clearly recalling your sincere faith that first lived in your grandmother Lois, then in your mother Eunice, and that I am convinced is in you also.    2 Tim 1:4-5

My paternal grandparents were my faith foundation.  Grandpa, a Baptist preacher, and Grandma, his devoted wife, both taught me what Christian living was all about.  They were role models and examples of what it meant to love and live for Jesus.  

I remember as a child, going with my Grandpa on the weekend and playing at the church while he prepared for his sermons.  How I miss seeing and hearing him in the pulpit.  It was into his arms that I was hugged, as I came forward and found salvation.  Although that has been thirty some odd years ago, I can still vividly see his smiling face as he welcomed me into the family of God.

The childhood memory that came to me from 2 Timothy though was sitting by Grandma in the evenings, both of us in dusters and nightgowns, smelling of soap and lotion, Bible in her lap.  

As I grew older, she let me either search for scripture, read the devotion guide, or passage for that day.  This simple act taught me how to find books of Bible, not to have a fear in reading aloud, and the importance of being in it daily.  

When it was time for bed, she would go with us to our rooms, kneel on the floor and pray with us before we drifted to sleep.  Above my headboard now is a wooden sign with the words, "Now I lay me..." and reminds me of those childhood prayers.  

Grandma and Me at her surprise 85th party

In this month of gratitude, I chose to honor my Grandmother today for her diligence to instilling faith in my life.  Yesterday's sweet memory of growing up with her Christian influence, made me thankful for the role she played in my beliefs.  Her persistence, prayers and example helped shape the woman I am today.      

As a little girl I would play dress up in her shoes and dream of what I could be. My feet have since outgrown her size, but I know her shoes are too big to ever fill. 
Thinking of her witness and how she has been a role model for our family, makes me realize the eternal responsibility we have for our future generations. May I continue to press on with the foundation she's given me so that our family tree grows in faith with each new branch.  

I'm grateful for the "Lois" in my life and hope to continue in her footsteps as the best "Eunice" I can be.  

#justbreathechallenge  Day 2: Childhood Memory

Love My People

After a loss, one of the most common phrases you will hear is "if there's anything you need, call me."  We say this because who really knows what to say in the midst of someone's grief.

In reality though, it would be rare for someone grieving to call out for help, even if it were for something simple.  Grief holds you hostage and normal, everyday tasks can seem overwhelming.  To think in advance or even know what to ask for may feel impossible.  And even if you do, it feels like you're imposing to ask.

I remember a few people who were very specific with help when we lost Austin.  One asked if they could go to the store for me.  With casseroles running out our ears, you might think this seemed like an odd suggestion.  But stores carry more than groceries - and it was the last place I wanted to be.  Public places made you vulnerable.  Well meaning people, even if they just glanced pitifully your way, could send you spiraling.  I sent her for random supplies that I needed - hair supplies, toilet paper, stamps, paper goods, and it was so appreciated.

Others asked how they could help with Noah.  Did he need someplace to retreat to when/if the funeral home became to much.  What was his favorite snack, or movie?  Could they take him out or let him play with their children?  Pick up his homework?  Siblings are often forgotten in loss so this meant everything to me.

Austin passed the day after Thanksgiving.  A few special friends sent flowers or keepsakes weeks later, right on the cusp of Christmas.  As holidays make it extra difficult to be grieving, this hugged our broken hearts.

Of course, so many prayers were offered and lifted up for us but some asked me exactly how they should pray.  Being able to vent, even if electronically, and share unique burdens in the journey of child loss was an unexpected relief.

Prayers are appreciated, coveted by those in grief.  But sometimes - often - prayer is not enough.

A few weekends ago, we were wakened with the news that my husband's friend since childhood had suddenly passed.  I began cooking, my go-to in condolences, as Tim made calls.  On our drive to their home, we thought of the many times since his illness we'd meant to stop by and visit.  He was a private man, not wanting anyone to even know he was sick, and so it made it difficult to know what to do.  Instead, we frequently prayed for them.  Now, we're saddened that he didn't see him in the end.

His wife said something that has stuck with me since.  We'd exchanged thoughts about how life gets busy and both sides meant to connect sooner, hindsight-wishes now.  She was realizing what she should've done for us, in our loss, even the midst of hers.  She told a story about helping others.

"Jesus said, 'Love my people' and often we just don't."

How true.  It is so easy to say or post that we're praying for a situation.  Or to give the standard "call me" response when tragedy strikes.  But we need to be moved to react.  We should be His hands and feet and literally love on those who are in need.

I began writing this post before his funeral but received a God wink when one of the pastors spoke on this very thing.  He read scripture about Jesus being questioned on the greatest commandment and challenged everyone to love God, love people.

Our friend was the epitome of a true servant.  He served God, his country, his community - even in his battle with his health, his service to his family was that not much changed during his illness.  The  rows of people and longest procession I remember ever driving in, showed the vast number of lives he touched.  When I think of him, I always picture him doing, never one to sit around.

We could all learn from his example to serve more, unselfishly. And be reminded to not just think but do, especially in times of grief or great need.