Creative Scribble

Today is an interesting day for me, as it has been for the past couple of years. On the calendar it is just another day – May 24. But for me it is a day that brings back many memories. At first the memories bring tears but then those tears become smiles and even prayers of thanks, which is kind of weird. Because this is the day I experienced a huge loss, now three years ago, when my grandmother, “Nanny,” passed away.

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She was an incredible woman. A life that had been marked with pain molded her into a person that understood what it meant to really trust God. As one of 14 children in her family, she had experienced the death of her own mother at a rather young age and the passing of half of her siblings. Probably worse, though, was the death of two of her own kids, the first just a few days old and the second five years old. Life didn’t stop throwing punches there. Her husband, my “Papaw,” would become a victim of Alzheimer’s where she faithfully helped him for more than four years of that terrible disease. Then came her own battle with Leukemia that she successfully knocked in the teeth when all the odds were stacked against her before it finally came back at the very end.

But you would have never known this much had happened in her life from just meeting her. In fact, most people remember her for her love of them, usually displayed through food. Just a few weeks ago I ran into an older pastor who was at a church in her hometown of Damascus, VA nearly 30 years ago. When he made the connection of who I was, the first thing he said was, “Your grandmother made the best fried chicken I’ve ever put in my mouth! I happened to stop by her house one day and she wouldn’t let me leave until I ate some of it and I haven’t forgotten that chicken to this day.”

Stories like that one are plenty.

Whether it was the neighborhood kids (who all knew her as “Nanny”) that would stop in for sweet tea and PBJ sandwiches almost daily and would pile in her car by what seemed like the dozens for VBS or the hundreds of kids at “Church Camp” who got to know her when she took a week off of work to be the kitchen leader, she impacted countless of young people’s lives for eternity. And from the next door neighbors that convened on her front porch each night in the summer for what became known as “porch meetings” to the church friends, choir members, and pastors she called every week, people found joy just being her friend.

But it was her family that most enjoys the legacy left behind. Speaking for myself I can say that I would probably not be starting this new church were it not for her prayers, sacrifice, and encouragement. The day that I was alone with her and told her goodbye she was in a lot of pain from the sudden onslaught of a second wave of Leukemia. But as I held her hand and choked back the tears, I thanked her for showing me Jesus in a real way through her life. I told her that even though her life may be ending on earth, every time I got to tell someone about how their life could change through Christ, it would be because of her legacy and influence that they got to hear the Gospel. It was a special moment I will never forget because just as I began to wonder if she could hear me, a tear rolled down her cheek.

So even now as these memories bring that lump in my throat and I’m trying hard not to cry like a baby, I am challenged to live my own life in a way that will impact people even when I’m gone. Jesus was the ultimate legacy-leaver that told us in a real simple way how to leave our mark on earth – tell people about him. Today as I reflect on how thankful I am for Nanny’s life, I am challenged to do just that.

Thank you, Lord, for that opportunity.