Thankful for Generations of Blessing

I grew up in a small south Georgia town. Well, it was small at the time. My parents lived outside of town a few miles and my grandmother lived "in town". We were at her house a lot. She was the center of the family. My aunt and uncle lived outside of town in the other direction. My grandmother's house was the meeting place. My brother and I would stay with her in the summers during the day while my mom worked. But the one thing that defined my grandmother was that she could cook. I mean really cook. The good old southern way with all the stuff they tell us will kill us now.


Not only was every holiday filled with incredible food, but everyday was filled with homemade goodies. Her love language was definitely food. Every Sunday as a little girl, I remember gathering around her table that was overflowing with fresh vegetables, meats and of course biscuits and cornbread. I remember standing next to her in the kitchen watching her cook. Her house always smelled like fresh brewed coffee or homemade bread or a sweet delight. I felt loved and safe in that house. And she made sure that all four of her grandchildren knew how much they were loved. 


When Danny and I began dating in college, we would come home to visit my grandmother. My hometown was about 30 minutes from the land that Danny hunted on so during the fall we usually ended up at her house. She would fix him a cozy bed on the couch in her den so that she could make sure he was awake at the crack of dawn to head to the woods. He had no problem getting up that early because he would be greeted with hot coffee and a full breakfast complete with homemade biscuits and jams. I am not sure if he loved coming home with me because he wanted to spend time with me or because he wanted to be fed by her. Either way, he knew early on that he was loved by her too.


I learned so much from my grandmother. I still think of her so often and I still realize life lessons that were taught by her as different things happen in my life. She loved well. My girls remember just enough about her house and her food to appreciate all of the stories. They know that they were loved by her too. My mother loves my girls the way my grandmother loved me. And one day I hope to be that kind of grandmother too. It is a blessing of love and comfort that has been passed down for generations.


I know how fortunate I am to have that kind of blessing in my life. But even if you don't have generations of blessing flowing into you, you can choose to be the beginning of that blessing. God gives us a chance to love our families right now. We can make the difference. We can break the curse. We can be the change that will flow into our families for generations to come. Jesus is the answer.


I remember seeing my grandmother's Bible always sitting next to her chair. She knew the Lord. Even if it is hard to look back at your family, you can be the generation that is remembered. Love your children well. Tell them your stories and teach them how to love others. That love will flow into their children and into their children's children. And God will use it to change lives and to bless others. 

But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, 

then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, 

whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, 

or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. 

But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD. 

Joshua 24:15