That Necessary Part

When I was growing up, my cousins and I would spend hours and hours at my grandparents’ farmhouse in Nebraska listening to cassette tapes. Underneath the counter in the laundry room, a leather case held an entire set of Dan and Louie recordings. We’d pour over the case for 30 minutes then finally climb up on stools and put our chosen tape in the old tape player and begin a journey with Ventriloquist Pastor Dan and his dummy, Louie, as they told us bible stories. We learned about Jonah, Zacchaeus and Elisha.

Josh and I attended a church up the street a couple of weeks ago. When the pastor announced he was preaching about parenthood, I rolled my eyes. I don’t need any more fuel for THAT desire. As he began to develop the sermon, however, it was more relevant that I first thought.

The pastor discussed the legacy he desired to leave for his children and the legacy his grandparents and parents had left for him. Not a legacy of financial wealth, but an example of spiritual richness.

What I didn’t realize until very recently is that my grandparents made a choice to own those tapes and encourage us to listen to them. Those bible stories came alive to me through those recordings. There are bits of biblical wisdom I’ve got tucked in the corners of my brain that I learned as a five year old sitting on the floor of my grandparent’s farmhouse. It’s part of my spiritual legacy.

My grandfather, who died when I was a young child, was a man of quiet compassion and great spiritual wisdom. The lessons he taught my mother were passed along to me.

My aunts and uncles singing to the Lord, praising Him, even as my grandfather lay dying in the hospital is powerful picture burned in my memory. We gathered around as a family to seek His comfort. I learned that no matter what the situation, He is worthy of our praise.

My grandmother on the other side is a prayer warrior. I know that my name is called before the throne of God on a daily basis because she prays for everyone in our family. Her example of selflessness in the face of extreme adversity is one that will forever be impressed upon my heart. Even to this day, my grandmother gets up very early and worships the Lord.

When I was in middle school and high school, my mom would update me on the life of my older cousin Monica. Her story of trusting the Lord as she struggled to teach in an inner city middle school that had no discipline taught me to stop and pray in whatever situation I find myself in. The powerful way in which God was faithful to bring her and her husband together was a reminder that the Lord will give us the desires of our heart if we only trust in Him.

As a child, we had several of my mother’s employees move into our house, share our table and learn about Christ for a season. My mother was a missionary in our hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska. If someone was in trouble, needed help, she wasn’t afraid to inconvenience herself. She invited them in. How many people came to know the Lord because my mother was unafraid to share what gave her hope? Only He knows.

When my father was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer, the true test came. My parents both learned to trust in ways they never thought they would have to. I remember my dad gripping the pew in front of him, struggling to sing the worship chorus “Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes, Lord,” knowing that it meant submitting no matter the cost, even to his death. Yet, they both remained faithful to Christ, seeking Him in the greatest hour of need.
In the last birthday card my father gave to me, my sweet 16, in his very careful handwriting, he wrote “May God occupy that so necessary part of you.” At the time, it didn’t make much sense. What necessary part? Huh?

He knew that his death would leave a hole in my life where a father’s love, affection and encouragement should have been. I felt the sting of that loss more than once after he passed away. He knew I needed to look to my Heavenly Father for those things, and prayed that God would see me through. More importantly, he knew that void we all have that pushes us to seek the Lord wouldn’t be satisfied in any other way.

As I grew older, I kept coming back to that phrase he’d written and continued to seek the Lord. Even now, as a married woman, I realize that void cannot be filled in any other way except for the Father’s love.

Is my family perfect? Oh heavens no. We’re a warped, human group of people. But they have left me a legacy that I shall be indebted to the rest of my life.

As I listened to the man’s sermon, I was struck with the opportunities I have now to build a legacy in others. My nephew, 9, is about to hit that age where everything the world has to offer will look pretty good. I need to begin sewing a legacy of God’s love into his life. I need to be praying for his spiritual growth. He is so intelligent; it’s going to take a lot to keep up with him.

Josh and I have been married less than two months. Children are a ways off, at least in our planning. However, I still consider us a new family. Although we aren’t yet, Lord willing, we are a future mother and a future father. Just as we should begin storing up a monetary nest egg, so we should begin building up a spiritual nest egg. If we can’t manage a daily time in prayer and the Word now, how will we ever manage with the busyness of children? Our interaction as husband and wife needs to be holy and righteous not just for the sake of each other and for God’s glory, but as a solid foundation for our family.

My husband wrote this about our marriage:
“It is the love for our Lord, Jesus Christ that unites us as one. Our commonality of a Christian upbringing is unequivocally the most wonderful gift that two people can bring to a marriage. Our foundation rests in Our Savior and forever in this home we shall serve Him.”