Generations of Grace

Diana Grace, Grace Ashely, and Rebecca Grace

I went to visit Edna for the first time today.  I say first time because I'd like to see her again.  Maybe soon.  Edna is 95. 
It's probably time to tell you that I've started working with Rev. Mary.  I called her when I got back from Brazil because I felt impressed to do so.  She told me the Lord had given her the passage of Gen. 24 for me.  The passage tells the story of Abraham's servant who was sent out to find Rebecca. Hmmm.  I'm already Rebecca.  Now I'm Abraham's servant.  What did that all mean?  The word that the Lord put in my mind was "apprentice".  I'd prayed so long for a teacher, and now here she was offered to me by the Holy Spirit and I was afraid. But not unsure. 
Rev. Mary has a fear of the Lord and a purity of heart unlike anyone else I know.  Those are the qualities I need in a teacher. Mary knows my story, and she doesn't judge me.  It was through her that the Lord told me about the Dome of the Rock.  She told me that the Lord wasn't going to allow all that had happened to keep me from His plans for me.  I've agreed to serve Rev. Mary in whatever way I can for a couple hours a week, and I've asked her to let me learn and receive from her however the Lord leads.  She asked me if I was willing to do visitation with her.  That is one ministry I am not new to, and I was excited to see how the Lord would use us. 
I stopped by Rev. Mary's on Monday morning to pick up a project I am working on with her and she began to tell me about Edna and her daughter. They had asked for a visit and for prayer.  Thoughts of Christine at the park flashed in my head (remind me to post a link to that story sometime) and suddenly I felt a surge of power through me.  At times the Spirit of God comes upon me in this way, but I'm still coming to terms with the fact that what I am experiencing is real and is in fact God.  It was quite strong and I reached out almost involuntarily to touch Rev. Mary's hand while she was chatting on about these women. I had said nothing and there was nothing on my face that would have indicated what I was experiencing, but she jumped as I touched her and yelled, "Whoa!" 
"Did you feel that?"  I asked her in amazement, jerking my arms up and down as if they were soaked and I needed to shake the excess water off. 
"Yes!" she laughed heartily.
 "What was that?" I asked in consternation.
"I guess the Lord wants you to go!" she said gleefully. 
"That doesn't happen to me very often, you know." 
"Well then, we need to get you out there!" she happily countered. 
I told her a little about my experience with Christine, and how upset I was with God for "doing that to me;" that at the time I didn't even really believe in that sort of thing or know if what was happening was of God or not. 
"You don't need to be afraid," she said, "The Lord will show you what to do." 
This morning I woke up early to prepare myself for my time with Edna.  One of the ways the Lord has been growing me is in the area of praying in faith.  Andrew Murray writes beautifully about it in "With Christ in the School of Prayer."  He speaks of the Scriptures where Jesus affirms to us again and again that what we ask for in faith we will receive...in accordance with the will of God. He says that we too often use the "if it is your will God" as a crutch.  In other words, we don't take the time to actually seek His will about what we will ask for in prayer before we ask. Instead it becomes a sort of catch all we offer at the end of our prayers. We must have faith that as we seek Him, He will reveal to us how we are to pray.  Only then can we truly ask with faith that our prayers will be answered because we are praying in the name of Jesus.  We are praying the revealed will of our Lord.  A few years ago I remember facing this teaching and feeling that it was impossibly beyond me.  Richard Foster says there is a progression in the spiritual life.  Some things we learn over time, and it is not just the learning that takes time, but the becoming.  I am becoming more able to hear, and as I pray what He leads me to, I am becoming more full of faith and confident in the Lord's answers, and I am seeing the Lord answer my prayers. 
I say all of this so that you will understand why I was feeling so conflicted this morning as I began to pray about my time with Edna.  As I approached the Lord about praying for her healing, I realized there was this big block in my spirit.  I had no faith that Edna would be healed.  "Praying for her healing, especially that I would be used to bless her in this way will not do any good if I don't believe you are going to heal her, Lord." 
What was wrong with me?  I thought about it for a while and it became clearer what I was feeling.  "Lord, I'm not sure I want to pray for her healing because she is old. What if its just her time?"
Ouch.  That was ugly.  But there was no getting around it. 
"Lord, help me to hear from You that You want Edna to be healed.  Then I will be able to have faith that I am praying Your will." 
I sighed and turned to Psalm 103.  It was a Psalm that Deb Haken had often used when praying for healing and I was familiar with it.  So I decided to pray through it.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

And all that is within me, bless His holy name.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

And forget none of His benefits;

Who pardons all your iniquities,

Who heals all your diseases;

Who redeems your life from the pit,

Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;

Who satisfies your years with good things,

So that your youth is renewed like the eagle. (NASB)

There it was, right in front of me. The word I was to give Edna and the prayer I was to pray for her. Why would you need your youth to be renewed if you weren't old?  This was a prayer I could pray in faith. 

When I met Edna this morning, she didn't need her oxygen tank as she had earlier in the week.  When Rev. Mary introduced me I asked Edna if it would be OK if I thought of her as my Grandma.  "I don't have any Grandmas who are living, and so I was wondering if I could think of you as mine for the day."  She thought that was a great idea.  I told her a little about Grandma Grace--she would have been 100 this year--and how she got on a boat all by herself and crossed the ocean to be a missionary in the Amazon jungle. Edna thought that was pretty amazing.  Rev. Mary brought Edna a Bible and asked me to read a pamphlet she had brought.  I did so in my best Grandma Grace immitation, not holding back at all.  Then I shared with Edna that when I was praying this morning, the Lord had given me a Scripture that I felt He wanted me to pray for her and share with her. (That's what some people call a "word").  I began to read Psalm 103 and Edna began to say it with me from memory.  When we got to the part about renewing her youth I told her that was what I thought was most important that I pray for her.  She nodded.  Rev. Mary asked if she wanted to sing Blessed Assurance with us and Edna's voice was surprisingly strong and steady and quite nice!  When we got to the part where we sang, "This is my story, this is my song," I about lost it.  

Rev. Mary had one more gift. I thought it was a bit strange as Edna pulled it out of the package.  It was a little white stuffed sheep.  Really?  A stuffed animal for a 95 year old woman?  That's what the Lord had led Rev. Mary to bring.  You know what? She was more excited about that stuffed animal than even my daughters would have been.  She loved on it and cuddled with it and cried with it.  It was beautiful.

Edna's daughter came over and handed me a card.   She said softly, "This is the passage of scripture that I wrote out and I keep on my Mom's table in her room."  As I began to read the tears welled up in my eyes.  It was the first few verses of Psalm 103.

The word today was for Edna, the lesson was for me. 

As I drove to pick Sarah up from preschool, the CD that I've been listening to (Josh Wilson's latest) was playing.  My favorite song on the album is an instrumental rendition of Amazing Grace.  All the emotions I've been feeling over the last few days swelled up and over and the tears ran down my cheeks.  I miss Grandma Grace.  I would have loved to hold Grandma's hand like I held Edna's warm frail hand today.

And sing to her.
And read to her.
And tell her my story.
What would she say about my journey? 
I think more than anyone else, maybe she would understand. 
Maybe she would even be proud. 
Is it possible that who I am and who I am becoming is somehow because of her? 
Maybe I am the fruit of her tree.
She didn't let her gender or her circumstances quiet the Spirit of God in her.  I could, in fact, picture myself waving to all the skeptics on the shore and sailing off to a jungle across the ocean. 
I smiled to myself.
I am Rebecca.  I am also Grace. 

 "What would she think of me?" I wondered.

And the answer came quietly and clearly to me.

Grace knows.

Grace understands.

Grace moves.

Grace never fades.

I walked Sarah to the car in the crisp wind and bright sunshine at exactly noon. 
The bells of St. Marks began to play their midday song. 
It was too perfect. 
I just shook my head...what was there to do but sing along?

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me,

I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see. 

As Grace lives through me, may I make her proud.