“I know, my God, that you test the heart and are pleased with integrity…I have seen with joy how willingly your people who are here have given to you. O Lord, God of our father Abraham, Isaac and Israel, keep this desire in the hearts of your people forever” (from King David’s last recorded prayer, 1 Chronicles 29:17-18).
The Israelites often spoke of or prayed to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Why would they address God as if he belonged to someone from the past? Perhaps their focus on the patriarchs brought to mind all the ways God had protected, guided, blessed and cared for their forefathers. Just the mention of their names conjured up stronger faith for what God could do in the here and now.
I, too, come from a heritage of faith, my grandparents. I believe in the God of Rachel, Henry, and Clara.
Grandma Rachel married in 1910, at age 20, to her sweetheart, Edward, from a neighboring farm. They moved into town—Aurora, Illinois, thus ending her two-year teaching career in a one-room schoolhouse.
Several years later, Elizabeth was born, and then twin boys came along, Algen and Louis. But during the influenza epidemic of 1917, Algen contracted the illness and died. He was only two years old. I can only imagine the inconsolable heartache for Rachel and Edward, as well as the children.
My dad was born in 1924, so he was much younger than his two siblings. For the next six years life must have settled into a quiet rhythm, but then the effects of the Great Depression became painfully real. Grandpa lost his job as an insurance salesman.
The dread of not being able to support his family became too much for him. Grandpa Edward committed suicide in 1930. Again, the family faced the inconceivable. And now their future lay on Grandma Rachel’s shoulders.
How could she possibly support her children, at a time when jobs were so scarce? Who was going to hire a mother when so many men were looking for work? But the God of Rachel provided a way.
You see, Grandma was an extraordinary baker. Her hands could turn out the flakiest pie crusts, the most tender bread, and the gooiest pecan rolls—all without measuring. A handful of this and a pinch of that turned out perfection. (Hers looked much better than the fare in this photo!)
Grandma was able to establish a clientele of families and businesses to buy her baked goods. That meant she was working much of the night, and then grabbing what sleep she could while the children were in school.
The God of Rachel gave her strength to accomplish the impossible. Her family survived the depression without government assistance, and they were able to keep their house.
Sometime later, Grandma remarried, but Grandpa Will also passed away much too soon. She remained a widow for the last twenty years of her life.
Not many, I would dare say, have been subject to so many difficulties in one lifetime. But Grandma Rachel would be the first to tell you God remained faithful–guiding, upholding and providing for her.
The Grandma I knew was calm, gentle, and patient. Very little ruffled her feathers. She prayed—on her knees, read the Bible consistently, and memorized dozens, if not hundreds, of verses. Kindness, industriousness, and goodness would also be good descriptors for her.
I can still remember the many ways she demonstrated her loving kindness to me. What a treat it was to spend the night at her house! I’d wake up in the morning to the aroma of Ralston Purina (a hot cereal). She would serve it with orange pinwheels, toast, and her homemade raspberry jam–yum! (The prunes I could have done without, but Grandma was only looking after my best interest!)
We’d spend much of the day reading books, putting puzzles together, making crafts, and playing games. Sometimes we’d investigate the treasures in the corner cabinet of her living room—the old books, Uncle Louis’s wind-up donkey cart from his childhood, the large Conch shell in which we could hear the ocean. (To a Midwestern girl, that was quite a phenomenon!)
Grandma Rachel gave me my first Bible for my eighth birthday, and encouraged me to memorize Bible verses, too. But her greatest influence came through her example of gentleness, endurance, and quiet strength.
Thank you, God of Rachel, for allowing me the privilege of knowing Grandma for twenty-two years and for the many precious memories of happy, peaceful times.
But thank you most of all for the legacy of faith she passed down and encouraged in others, including me. You were of supreme importance to her, and never far from the surface of her thinking. May I follow her example when difficulties arise. You, the God of Rachel, will bring me through, just as you did for her.
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Please come back on Thursday for the story of the grandparents on my mother’s side. God did some amazing things for Henry and Clara, too!
P.S. to the cousins: If I don’t have all my facts straight on Grandma’s story, please let me know. It’s important for posterity to be accurate! You can email me at nancyaruegg@gmail.com .
From the Inside Out 