A Legacy

The book I'm currently reading was on my mind last night. It is purely fiction and not even really great fiction. It's just one of those Christian series that is set in the old west. One of the characters, though, is a young lady who is visiting the town. And she makes the statement that her father believed that church was for the ignorant and poor. He had in fact forbidden his wife or children to EVER attend church. She even seems to believe, rightly so, he would disown her if she were to investigate faith.

I'm reading this on the heels of watching a video a few weeks ago about a young Muslim who became a Christian and then went home to his family to tell them about his newfound faith fully expecting to lose his head. When he refused to abandon Christianity, he was led outside, by his father I believe, with tied hands and placed on a donkey to be taken to a place where he would indeed be killed by the angry crowd who surrounded him. He was telling us about it because of a miraculous escape when the animal bolted.

Last night, I was filled with gratitude toward God for His provision for me. And this post serves in a way as a thank you both to Him and my grandparents and father who are with Him and my mother whom I am still blessed to have here. I am grateful for the legacy of faith they provided. I am grateful that I did not have to fear for my life or even simply to choose between my soul and my family. I am grateful too that they allowed me the freedom to explore and choose for myself my own faith.

Growing up in the church can sometimes be a detriment. When something has always been a part of your life, you can take it for granted. You don't always recognize its value. I have to admit it's fun to watch someone who comes out of a hard life revel in their new peace and faith. But I think I'm blessed to have had God always in my life, even when He wasn't a very strong influence there. And I'm grateful to have had parents who saw His value even when I didn't know of it. So, thank you!