My great-grandmother never owned anything that she wasn't willing to give away, despite the fact that paper towels hung to dry from washing in her kitchen-signs of a life lived through the Great Depression. Her skin was scented with hospitality, compassion seeped through her eye-wrinkles and joy always danced from her eyes, no matter the circumstances. She taught my own Mom how to kneel each night and pray to the Lord, delighting in Him and begging His mercies. My Mom, in turn, taught me. No one left Grandma's house without feeling cherished and appreciated. Never did she make anyone feel guilty for leaving, or for the great length of time between visits; she simply soaked in the time she was given like a delectable delicacy, which always made me want to come back.
My Aunts are tender souls. One has hearts for eyes- she sees the Spirit of the Lord everywhere and uses every instrument possible to express the glory that she sees, making vehicles that help other heart-eyes grow. She is an angel whom God uses to gift others with her words, photos, and treasures at the perfect time, usually without knowing the effects that they have, all by simply being faithful to maximize the gifts and talents that she has been given. Another Aunt devotes her life to her family and to others, making her home a safe haven for all who meander inside. She humbly submits her life to her Lord as she seeks out service everywhere she goes, never complaining or asking, "What's in it for me?"
And there is my Mom, who labors with God's Word, longing for it to overtake her. Life's fair share of trials have left her with a heart that could have easily turned hard and bitter, but by the gift of faith, she chose Jesus. Trial after trial has left her with a kind of patience that I may never know, and a devotion to her Lord that is becoming of saints. She has served as "Mommy" of children for over 20 years and lovingly grows to morph into "Mom" of adults, not because it is what she wants, but because it is what we need. Her decisions are always intended to be in the best interest of us, not of herself, as a true image-bearer of her Savior.
I become a wife in 40 days, Lord willing.
At our first shower last weekend, a friend said to me, "You are going to be the perfect wife!!!!"
I wanted to laugh in her face.
Never before have I been so aware of the nasty sin lurking in the depths of my soul or the missing pieces of the gospel in my character. Never before has another human being-other than maybe my parents-seen this much of my raw sin. Never have I felt the weight of trying to fulfill this image that I have built up in my own mind of what a wife is "supposed to be like."
But then I wonder if my great-grandmother felt this at all when she stepped into this role at such a young age. Surely those compassion-filled eye-wrinkles weren't existent in those ripe days. And my aunt had to see lots of dark shadows before she was able to receive the stunning colors of light in their full splendor. My Mom was a bit of
a clean freak before she learned the pleasures of letting her children feel comfortable enough to play and laugh and love the house into our home. Surely, there is grace for me.
Grace doesn't run in families, unless God is your Father.
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