As a child growing up, our family would travel each year from California to East Texas to spend the entire summer with my grandmother. In my eight-year-old mind, there was no woman stronger or braver to have ever walked this earth.
“Granny” was up before daylight killing that day’s lunch and had it frying before the heat of the day set in. I can still remember fried chicken to be the first smell of the morning along with a fresh baked cake for the noon meal’s dessert. “Granny” wasn’t afraid of wasps or dirt dabbers…. The first time I saw her crush one with her thumb, I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she “was in fact”, the bravest woman in the world.
I only saw Granny during the summer months and as time went by, and as I grew, my time of summer visits had come to a close. As I carved out my own life with children of my own, I could only talk to her on the phone or read a letter she had sent.
Fourteen years had passed since I had seen my Granny, and she was now in a nursing home. I was so excited to see her….along with me were my two small sons….my excitement was building as I walked up the steps to see my “Granny” and to introduce her to her two “great-grand-sons”.
As we waited in the visiting area, I could see my mom bringing Granny closer. She was now in a wheel chair…her ninety plus years had left her frail and much smaller than I had remembered.
Then it happened…..I hugged her neck and said, “Hi Granny…I’ve missed you so much.” She looked up at my mother with confused eyes and said, “Who is she?” Momma said, why, this is my daughter. Granny looked puzzled and said, “Well, I didn’t know that you had a daughter.”
Was I now crushed? Devastated would be more like it….
Granny did not know me….her eyes told me that the moment I looked into them.
I think about that day often, and I can’t help but to compare it to my relationship with God. I think about the people who claim to serve Him, people who say they love Him and the have served Him all their lives, but…the Bible says in Luke 13 that there are some who only profess these things and that one day Jesus will say to them, “I tell you…I do not know you…..depart from Me….”
I can not imagine any thing worse than to have my Lord and Savior say those words to me.
“What will Jesus say to me, when I come face to face with Him?”
“Will He know me?”
And what about you?
What is “your” answer to these same questions?