 Hello
Friends:
Mother’s Day is right around the corner and I want
to encourage you all to spend some time thanking God
for all of the godly women in your life: past &
present! When I look back on my childhood, it is
very clear to me that the “heroes of faith” in our
family were the women of the family. Fern Edgecombe
(my Paternal Grandmother) was a faithful disciple of
Jesus Christ. She spoke of her faith naturally and
lived out her faith consistently. She made a big
impact on my mother when she and Dad were newly
married. Mom was never raised in the Church, but
Grandma Fern planted Gospel seeds that remained in
her heart and grew over time. When I was about 2
years old, Grandma Fern was on hospice, dying of
cancer. She asked my mother at that time if she
would consider being baptized, and consider raising
us in the Oreana Christian Church (which is where
she raised her children). It’s hard to say “no” to a
dying woman so Mother obliged! Over the years the
Almighty was faithfully and slowly grew my Mother’s
faith. Now she is much more like that tree in Psalm
1… standing tall and firm in her faith, planted by
the streams of water. I have beautiful memories of
my mother sitting with me on my bed and reading me
stories from our illustrated children’s bible. Mom
planted seeds of faith in me as Grandma planted
seeds in her life. Maybe your mother helped you
along your faith journey as well. Maybe your
grandmother did? Maybe a neighbor, a coworker, or
someone at Central Presbyterian, but I would imagine
you can identify a godly woman somewhere along the
line who played a part in your journey with Jesus.
We give God praise for them in May and throughout
the year!
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My Mother’s Bible by M.B. Williams (written
around 1900)
There's a dear and precious book, Tho' it's worn and
faded now, Which recalls the happy days of long ago;
When I stood at mother's knee, With her hand upon my
brow, And I heard her voice in gentle tones and low.
Chorus: Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old
tear-stained leaves I love to look; Thou art sweet
day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at
last to that bright home above.
There she read of Jesus' love, As he blest the
children dear, How he suffered, bled and died upon
the tree; Of his heavy load of care, Then she dried
my flowing tear With her kisses as she said it was
for me.
Well, those days are past and gone, But their mem'ry
lingers still, And the dear old Book each day has
been my guide; And I seek to do his will, As my
mother taught me then, And ever in my heart his
words abide. |
