Her Bible always sat next to her chair.
Worn leather cover. Cracked binding. Notes tucked in the pages. Hand written reminders of verses, victories and love scratched on the pages.
My Grandmother’s Bible was part of her. She started every morning with it laid open on her lap. Day full of possibilities. Heart open to the direction of Scripture.
As she cleaned the house, played games with me or visited friends in the neighborhood she was the Bible. Often quoting verses or telling me stories of Jesus. She sang hymns and danced with me. Her shaky voice still echoes in my heart “and He walks with me, and He talks with me, and tells me I’m His Own”.
My Grandmother was the Bible in motion to me.
Time, illness and age have changed her. She doesn’t watch the news, or read. She doesn’t talk anymore and relies on people to meet her basic needs. Truly I don’t know that she knows who I am, but she seems happy to see me (I take that as a good sign).
Yet, techonology has given us a glimmer of hope for what still blooms inside my Grandmother.
I laid the ipad in her hands. Waiting. Watching. Hoping.
Her eyes shifted to the screen. There in the largest possible font the words awaited her. His words. The Word. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”
I could see her eyes track across the screen. She was reading. And at the bottom of the page she waited. I turned the page. She read some more.
We repeated this pattern twice more. In a few minutes she had read almost all of Genesis 1.
Her smile was enough. Even if she can’t find the words or doesn’t know my name…I knew.
The Word makes her complete.
Slumped over in her chair, stains from today’s lunch on her shirt, once curled and neat hair, flat and messy. Most would not see her as a role-model, anymore. And truthfully, I forget to look for the woman that my grandmother always has been, not just the one time has molded her into.
My grandmother was a woman of God.
My grandmother is a woman of God.
And as she read Scripture this weekend, I saw her. Perhaps as God sees her? Beautiful. In love. Full of Jesus.
In that breath…that moment. I wanted to be just like her. A woman of God.
A woman who so saturates my soul with the Word. With God. That when all the things of youth and this world are stripped away at my core you find Jesus.
When my words fade and my body fails….what will I be?
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of our God endures forever.
Father, teach me to be like my Grandmother. A woman of God. A fount of scripture. A love affair to last through eternity, rooted in a love letter from a King to a peasant girl. Teach me to read, love and memorize the Word so that I can be a godly influence for my children and grandchildren. Help me to make Jesus my core. Amen.