Thursday, July 11, 2013

The Most Powerful Woman

Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. Luke 1:1-2

     What an incredibly rich and purpose-filled verse! Luke decided, that like many other believers who'd encountered God, he'd write his own account of the good news.

     I love the personal way this gospel account is written. Luke was writing to someone named Theophilus, which literally means "one who loves God" in Greek. There's speculation that Theophilus was either a general term for Christians, a patron, who financed the book's writing, or a Roman acquaintance with a strong interest in the Christian religion.

     Whatever the case may be, we do know one thing: Luke invested time in this person. Writing this gospel wouldn't have been easy; it's not as if he could write it on his laptop and whip it out on a printer. It would've been a long and painstaking process because it's the most comprehensive gospel written.

     What struck me about this particular passage was the phrase "just as they were handed down to us." Luke was a gentile (non-jew) believer who got this spiritual heritage from someone who cared enough about him to hand it down.

                                 This got me thinking about the most powerful woman in my life.

Look at her! She looks pretty mild-mannered there in her little knitted sweater and polyester dress. That's how I mostly remember her, sitting on her recliner, reading her newspaper from her farmhouse
                                      Oh yeah - everything about that screams POWER.  

     But she was. She was! That's my Great Grandma Edna.

     You see, from that recliner or davenport (which is an old-fashioned word for couch), she wrote me letters and sent me the kid's funny pages from her beloved newspaper. She did this almost every week. She was the only Christian in my family (that I knew of) and her letters are entirely responsible for my faith today.

     She was the one who told me Jesus loved me and taught me how to pray... through her writing.

     Grandma Edna lived in Michigan and I lived in Maryland, and we were only able to see each other once a year. Honestly, the only thing I truly remember about her was her farmhouse, her chocolate chip cookies and her incredibly wide backside. I mean she was really, really old.

     But she didn't let the distance in geography or age stop her.

     The verse above got me thinking about her today and about ways I can invest in other people through my writing. I need to get creative and active in this way for people in my own life.

                                 Got any ideas?

                                                                                          God is faithful and wonderful!

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