I am a reader.
I recently reread "Her Mothers Hope" by Francine Rivers. In this book, the author shows a mothers struggles and triumphs and how these situations impacted her daughters, granddaughters and great-granddaughters.
I was reminded of my own grandmother. We called her Nonna, and even to this day if I hear that name I am instantly reminded of the sweet fragrance of love.
I am a Bible-marker. My pages are marked, underlined, folded, and tabbed throughout the Book. Some of my first recollections are of Nonna sitting with her Bible in her lap, reading and praying first thing every morning I was with her. And underlining. I have the sweet privilege of having one of her devotionals, and you guessed it...it's marked up. Her life was "marked" by her devotion to the Holy Scripts and her Savior. And my life was deeply impacted by hers.
My mother was the single parent of two girls. God had to help her. There was no choice. Countless meals, refereeing battles, keeping us safe, baskets full of books, listening to our endless chatter, and loving us unconditionally...I cannot help but be amazed by the goodness of God in our lives. She told me once that her relationship with God was more important to her than I was. I believed it. Her life was also marked by her journey with the Savior.
Of course, for myself, I did not really understand the gravity of mothering until one hot summer day in August. That was when everything came full circle for me. It was made abundantly clear what this mothering idea was all about. I was reminded at that exact moment that my life needed to be marked by the love of Jesus.
When I think of my grandmother and my mother, I am amazed at the two women God place in my life. What gifts of grace they were. They profoundly impacted the way I think and reason about everything.
When I look at my sister and myself, I am amazed that we had two Godly women in our lives that instructed us in so many ways. Sometimes with words and sometimes by not using words at all.
When I look at my daughter, I see a precious gift of grace, who has her own gift of grace.
This quote from "Her Mothers Hope" has become endearing to me as the years go by:
"Someday when I pass from this life to the next, my mom and grandmother will be standing with Jesus welcoming me home. Just as I will be waiting when my beloved daughter arrives, ....and her daughter after her...and all the generations yet to come."
How is your life marked? Is Jesus tattooed on your life?
Underline it. Highlight it. Circle it. Color it. Fill in all the lines.
Mark it up. It matters to someone.
