Angels and Ancestors

When I wake in the wee hours of the morning, I imagine those who came before me and let their love and prayers surround me. The beauty of love and prayers is that they never go away. Once prayed, a prayer lives on forever. My ancestors prayed for me, and I pray for my son, his family, and my grandchildren’s children and grandchildren. I believe in the power of prayer because I have felt its presence in my own life.

I’ve asked God thousands of times during the past thirty-five years to give His angels watch care over my son. I pray the same for his family, and will continue to pray for them as long as I am here and when I am with God. Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, His Father, praying for us. That is a humbling thought. Love and prayer join beautifully in the heart of a mother, father, grandparent, great-grandparent, aunt, uncle, etc..  God hears and holds each one of those prayers.

Hearts and lives are transformed by the prayers of angels and ancestors. I do not believe we become angels when we die. Angels are not humans who have passed into heaven; they are an entirely different entity, but I know they love and protect us because we are God’s children. I’m sure they are intrigued by humans. They celebrated Christ’s birth with abandon and showed themselves to the shepherds near Bethlehem because they could not contain their joy.

Angels and ancestors are not the same, but they do share a love for God and for us. I feel a connection with those who are still living, and I feel a connection to those who are with God. It brings me so much comfort to think about Benoni, Dice Ann, Flave, Anna, Jasper, Lilly Belle, mama, daddy, and all those who have paved my path with their prayers. I cannot imagine not having them in front of me on this journey, but if I didn’t have those dear ancestors, I would still have God, His Holy Spirit, and Jesus to pave the way for me. They are my ancestors thanks to Christ’s precious love, so I will never have to be alone.

When I woke at five this morning, I smiled and thanked the precious loved ones I knew and those I never met. I tell them I can’t wait to see them so we can watch the coming generations together. I plan to pray with all my heart now and in heaven. The call to pray is a powerful call. I used to think prayer wasn’t enough, but I’m learning it’s like putting money in the bank for those I love. The interest accumulates at a very high rate over the centuries, and the balance just keeps growing in my heart and in the hearts of those for whom I pray.

Power of Praying

Remembering Mama

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Mama died four years ago today, and I think of her everyday. She was, and still is, more than a mama. She and I were kindred spirits who understood and loved one another in a special way. Mama wasn’t like everyone else, and neither am I. Since her death, I’ve come to love who I am, and I know she would be very happy about that. She was always trying to warn me that I was different and not to let that hurt me when others didn’t understand. Unfortunately, I’ve let a lot of people hurt me and even more convince me I needed to be someone other than who I am.

Being loved just as I am changed all that, and that love has enabled me to love myself just the way I am.  Mama was trying desperately to tell me something before she died, and I believe it was to not give a flying flip what other people thought and to just be me:) I’m sorry to say that I’ve allowed my fear of disappointing others to guide my heart for most of my life. Christ’s precious love has changed all that since mama died, and I’m happy to say that my heart is finally wide open. I am free to be who God created me to be instead of who I or others think I should be. That makes sense to mama and me; but if it doesn’t make sense to you, that’s okay too:)

The lessons in witness have been about being who I am, loving others as they are, and letting the Holy Spirit do the rest. I used to think I had to be who I could never be and get others to be the same. It sounds silly now, but that’s the story of my life. I eventually do get it, but it takes me a little longer than most:)

Mama’s name was Mary, and God placed another Mary in my path yesterday to remind me that being different a good thing in His eyes.

 Now as they were traveling along, He entered a village; and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to His word.  But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, ‘Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.’ But the Lord answered and said to her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary,  for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.'” Luke 10:38-42 NASB

All the commentaries have a different take on this story, but the meaning for me yesterday was crystal clear. It’s okay to be who I am even if I or others do not understand. Mary and Martha are very different, and that’s okay. What isn’t okay is thinking that others should be like me or trying to get God to make them do what I want them to do or be who I want them to be. I’ve always loved Mary and can relate to her in this story because, like her, I would most likely be caught sitting at Jesus’ feet and not paying any attention to whether or not it was the proper or right thing to be doing. I know the dishes have to be washed, and I’ll eventually get to them. I’m listening to Jesus right now, and that’s all that matters:)

I wore mama’s favorite Fourth of July shirt yesterday. She used to say, “Doesn’t this look good on me?” when she wore it. I always smiled and said, “Yes, it does mama. Yes, it does!!”

Gigi & Lilly on the 4th