Posted by: glorifyhim1 | October 24, 2009

Do You Remember?

 

Do you remember when you first heard about Jesus? Who was the first person to mention His name to you or show you what a life lived for Jesus looked like? I cannot honestly say that I remember the first time I heard about Jesus, but when I try to remember who helped me learn about Him, many faces come to my mind. Who or what do I remember?

 

I remember lying in bed with my sister and Mama reading us a Bible story from a big red Bible story book. I remember Daddy sometimes working two shifts at the local manufacturing company and coming home bone tired – yet still willing to lend a helping hand to a neighbor. I remember Pa walking down the road on Sunday mornings to go to the little rock church near our house. I can also remember the exact pew where he sat and the window next to him that was usually flung open in the summertime. I remember Granny’s big black Bible that I would hold and thumb through its massive pages. Then there was my other set of grandparents. Pa was always cheerful and jovial and would laugh until he cried over a good joke. Granny was the epitomy of selflessness. I don’t think I ever heard her complain (even when she suffered through the end stages of cancer) or say a bad word about anyone. Sunday dinners at their house included family, church members, friends and neighbors.

 

In addition to family members, I also remember others such as Miss Myrtle, my preschool Sunday School teacher. I can’t remember much of what she said in what was known as the “card” class (our Bible story was on a little card), but I always remember the cookies she handed out at the end of the class. I remember Miss Kathryn and other Sunday School teachers who patiently put up with girlish giggles and endless bouts of silliness. I remember the picnics and small trips that they would plan for us. I can remember Kathryn’s husband, Johnny, who would stand and lead the choir and congregation in singing old hymns of the faith. I can remember prayer time at that little rock church – everyone would pray out loud at one time. It kind of scared me at first, but then I can remember feeling a strange sense of peace just listening to the various petitions being offered up to God. My first recollections of Vacation Bible School were at this same church. Again, I don’t remember much of what we did, but I recall grape kool-aid and peanut butter crackers (what is this with me and food?)!

 

I know there are countless other memories of family members, friends, and others who through what they said or what they did helped me learn about Jesus or what it means to be a Christian. Likewise, through the years, I can remember others – some whom I don’t even remember their names – who witnessed a Christ-like love before me. There was a loving young volunteer at the hospital who gave me a little macramé cross and prayed for me when we lost our first baby. There was the loving pastor who modeled Christ’s love to a young couple who said they believed in Jesus, but yet hadn’t learned quite how to trust Him. I could go on and on, but let me stop here to say that where I am today is the result of parents, grandparents, Sunday School teachers, church members, family and friends. It is because of people who told me about about Jesus, showed me what Jesus’ love looked like, who were faithful where God had placed them. They may have prayed for me when I didn’t even know it. They may have just smiled at me and made me feel welcome sitting on a church pew beside them. They may have taught me and told me what Jesus did for me, or they may have been the one to spread the peanut butter on the cracker. But whatever they did, they did it for the love of Jesus and in His time, and in His way, He brought their labors to fruition in my life when at 25 years of age, I gave my heart to Jesus.

 

I am reminded of the parable of the growing seed that Jesus taught in the gospel of Mark. “And He said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground, and should sleep by night and rise by day, and the seed should sprout and grow, he himself does not know how.’” (Mark 4:26-27) Each of these people that I remember – and some whom I’ve probably long forgot – scattered seeds in my heart. And just as a natural seed sprouts and grows and we do not know how, God caused those seeds to sprout and grow in my life in ways that none of us were aware.

 

In 1 Corinthians 4:1, Paul states, “Let a man so consider us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God.” No one is unimportant in God’s kingdom. There are no “little” jobs. God has entrusted every believer with part of His ministry on earth. Many of the people who I have mentioned never saw me make a profession of faith, yet they were instrumental in the decision I made later in life because of their faithfulness to God’s calling in their lives. In Acts 1:7-8, Jesus’ last words to His disciples instructed them to be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” Notice that He didn’t say “go witness,” but He said, “be witnesses.” There is a difference. Being a witness involves not just what we say, but also what we do.

 

I am so thankful for all those people in my life who were faithful to the part of God’s ministry that He entrusted to them. I’m glad they were witnesses to me of what a life lived for Christ looks like. I pray that I, in turn, may be a faithful witness and help others come to know Jesus.

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