A few weeks ago we had the joy of all three of our kids, their spouses, and all eight grandkids being together for a few days. One of those days we went to a park and there was a statue of an old farmer. He was wearing a “suit” consisting of overalls with a dress shirt and tie underneath, and suit coat over. As I saw it, I was struck at how much it looked like my great-grandfather, “Pa” Christian.
Pa Christian was a coal miner and a “jake leg” preacher–a preacher with no formal training who simply “got the call to preach” and started doing it. When I knew him, I wasn’t a Christian, and didn’t really even believe in God.
But I remember him, and his faith. I remember as a teenager getting word that he had died after praying all morning with a friend that God would take him. I remember a lightning trip back to Kentucky for his funeral, and finding out when we got there that “Ma” Christian had also died. She had been in a coma for weeks in a nursing home, and was never told of Pa’s death. She died 19 hours after he did–after he had prayed all morning that God would bring them both home.
That didn’t make a believer out of me. But it did stick with me. And after I came to know the Lord it became an example of God’s sovereignty over our lives.
The kids were more intent on climbing on the statue than looking at it, but as we were resting there, I pulled my oldest grandson, six year old Jaden, aside. I said “Jaden, do you know who that looks like?”
He said “No. Who does it look like?”
I said, “That looks just like my grandpa’s father. Did you know that makes him your great-great-great-grandfather?”
His eyes lit up and he said, “Wow!” That’s three greats!
As I told him just a little bit about his great-great-grandfather, a man who died before Jaden’s dad was even born, I saw myself as a link between that old man and this little boy. A link in time between my grandkids and those who came before me.
And I wondered.
Will Jaden one day see a statue that reminds him of me? Will he pull his grandson, or great-grandson aside and tell him about me?
And what will he say?
Will he tell him about how we played together? About Grandpa’s “big bike”? About our mornings at Starbuck’s?
Will he remember my faith? Will it point him to our Lord and help him to rely on God when he is hurting or feeling helpless?
Pa Christian didn’t know who or what I would be. He didn’t know I would have eight grandchildren. He didn’t know that what he did would impact me years later. But he left a footprint of faith.
The name of this blog is “faith footprint”. Each of us leaves a footprint–evidence of our life–when we have passed this way. What will that footprint be, and who will read its signs?
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