I saw an invitation to write as a guest blogger on a new friend's blog about someone who left you a legacy. I immediately jumped at the chance to write about my grandfather, who would have been 92 years old today. I finished the story last night to send to her today, not even realizing that it happened to coincide with his birthday.
It is an honor to share this story with you today on such a special day. It will also be featured as a guest post on
http://betheproof.org/ later in April.
A Lamplight Legacy
As I walked through the door of my grandparents’ house, waves
of both joy and sadness hit me all at once. How long had it been since I last
stepped foot into their home? Perhaps ten years already or possibly even
more? One glance at my aging
grandfather’s frail body filled me with such regret over not making more of an
effort to visit.
During my childhood, my aunts, uncles, cousins, and
grandparents all lived in other states.
I was lucky if I saw my grandparents once a year. Then after I got
married and had to split any time off between my family, my husband’s family,
and numerous travels that led us to an international adoption, visits with my
extended family became nearly non-existent.
I was so thankful my mom suggested a
quick visit for my grandfather’s 90th birthday on the way home from
our first family vacation with our newly adopted teenage son. It meant so much
to me to show off my grandparents’ home to both my boys, and I cherished the
opportunity to introduce my adopted son to his new great-grandparents.
Less than nine months later, my grandfather took his last
breath on earth and his first breath in heaven. As I sat through his funeral, I
couldn’t have been more grateful or proud to be one of his granddaughters.
While each speaker talked about his life, I finally began to grasp the reality
of the legacy he left us.
My grandfather, Jack Greener, lived his life with purpose,
following God’s directions rather than his own goals or pleasures. He lived
every stage of his life in constant service for others. He fought in World War
II and earned several medals. As an adult, he began his mornings in prayer,
grounding his faith in the Word of God. He always found opportunities to share
Christ’s love and invite others to go to church with his family.
When he lost his wife at a fairly young age, after raising
his first three children, he followed God’s leading to marry another woman also
passionate about her relationship with Christ. She was a recent widow herself
with a young adult daughter and teenage boys who’d just lost their dad. My
grandfather embraced them as his own children and guided them toward maturity
in Christ as they entered adulthood.
Later in his life, after he retired from many years as an
engineer, he served overseas as a missionary, both long-term and short-term,
for as long as his health could tolerate the travels. When he could no longer
travel, he still gave both generously and sacrificially toward missions and
supported them often in prayer.
His examples inspired everyone around him, but the way he
modeled a life of prayer had the deepest impact on me and affects me still
today. I guess that’s what makes it a legacy, the fact that he passed it on.
I don’t recall many specific details, but I remember hearing
he had a health scare once while I was a child. In order to regain his
strength, he started walking four miles every day. During those walks, he spent
a considerable amount of time praying for all of his family by name--for each
of his children, step-children, grandchildren, and eventually his
great-grandchildren.
What a comfort to go through life knowing you’re prayed for
on a daily basis. When hardships came, I knew at least one person had prayed
for me, likely before I’d even gotten out of bed. That’s not to say I didn’t
have other family members who prayed for me often (and even on a daily basis),
but my grandfather made no secret about his constant prayer for his family. Though
I didn’t see him often in my life, his daily prayers molded me into the person
I am today.
Before I left my grandparents’ house during that last visit,
my grandfather didn’t hesitate to tell me, “You know that I pray for you every
day, early every morning.” Ninety years old, suffering from a broken back that
couldn’t be repaired, dealing with intense pain on a daily basis, yet he still
started out his days praying for all of us.
I, too, am an early riser, and I believe his example inspired
me to begin my mornings the same as he had always done. This poem that I wrote for
my own family is evidence that my grandfather’s legacy lives on in me each and
every morning. It is a legacy I pray will continue for many generations to come.
The lamp light
Tucked
in the corner by the fireplace
Sit
a small lamp and a chair,
A
few books and pens and notecards,
A
worn and tattered book of prayers.
Before
the sun comes up each morning,
I
turn the lamp light on.
I
sit to talk with God
About
how my days have gone.
I
fess up all my failures,
And
add to my journal of praise.
We
adjust my grumpy attitude
And
address my selfish ways.
I
read a portion of Scripture,
Ponder
over a devotional page,
I
reflect over how it affects me
So
differently each year I age.
Once
my heart is in tune with the Spirit,
I
open that tattered book by the chair.
I
anoint my family with Scripture,
And
surrender them all in prayer.
Though
I often fall short as a wife,
A
mom, a daughter or a friend
Know I give you the
gift
That
matters most in the end.
Every
morning when you wake up,
And
you see the lamp light on,
It
means you have been prayed for
Even
before your day has begun.
By
Rachelle D. Alspaugh
