Today would have been my Great Grandmother Stewart’s birthday. She died when I was teenager. She was a big deal when I was growing up because she did the lion’s share of raising my Mom. In Mom’s eyes, the sun rose and set in Granny Stewart.
Granny Stewart was simple but magnificent. I’ve thought on more than one occasion that I should attempt to write a book about her. I’ve never known fully what the story would be, but the title would be “Blind Faith.” I won’t go into all the specifics here, but she had a rough childhood where by the time she was 12 her parents had died and she had to raise her younger siblings largely by herself. By worldly standards, I suppose she was pretty much always poor. And in her later years, diabetes stole her eyesight.
Oh but the tremendous faith that woman had. I’m still very much in awe when I think back to my childhood interactions with her and the stories my Mom would share. If I only had a thimble full of her faith. I’ve often wondered what the world looked like from her perspective. I wonder if sometimes the world didn’t look a little the picture above. That’s the back of quilt that my mom and great aunt completed using old squares that Granny Stewart started.
Of course those squares weren’t about being pretty or fancy. They were about necessity. It wasn’t a quilt to hang on the wall or over some display rack. It was to put on the bed for warmth. It is now in my possession where it’s greatest purpose is to connect me to those generations before me. And perhaps, for me to gain some perspective and faith.
It’s easy to see the world like the underside of that quilt. Shapeless, directionless, nondescript maybe. If I focus on that side of the quilt, it’s almost a little sad. It has no meaning and only the very basic value of being a covering for warmth.
But then if I flip it over my whole perspective changes. I see a pattern. In the place of just nothing is a reason. There is shape and a plan. The pieces fit together in a design. I wonder if that’s how Granny Stewart’s faith actually allowed her to view the world? Surely that’s how God views the world. We’re on the underside and have no idea of what the full picture is. But if we could see it from his perspective, we would see why the pieces are connected the way they are and the beauty of all the squares put together in a final product.
Who knew that a quilt made from scraps of utilitarian fabric could be so valuable to me now in my home with easy heat? It’s not just the perspective, it’s that multiple generations of the women in my family made it – the same way those multiple generations of women have made me who I am. The quilt is a tangible reminder of how those threads come together through generations. My great grandmother’s hardships taught her lessons that got passed down and instilled in me. Her faith, and likely others before her, make up a large part of mine.
Psalm 145 verse 4 says, “One generation shall praise Your works to another, And shall declare Your mighty acts.” (For the record, I’m reading that out of my Mom’s everyday Bible, with her notes and underlines.) This is how God’s Kingdom has been built since the beginning. It’s been passed from one generation to the other – in stories, in priorities, in customs and traditions, and in quilts. I can’t see into the future and understand everything God is doing, but I can look back to see what He has done before.
I’m so fortunate to have had those blocks of faith laid for me. I have seen and heard of the many ways that God worked in Granny Stewart’s life and they become examples to me. They go in my storehouse, if you will, to pull from when my faith starts to shake. It’s my proof that the same God who took care of my Great Grandmother, my Grandmother, my Great Aunt and my Mom, is also the God who takes care of me.
He is also the same God who will take care of my children and future generations of my family. We will all be just a block in the quilt of our family. But I think it helps sometimes to step back and look at the broader perspective so that we can see it’s real purpose and value; to take a minute and appreciate the generations who passed on what they had to us.
I don’t need that quilt for warmth. It’s definitely not one I would choose for it’s artistic beauty. I need that quilt for what it represents – the faith of my family members in a God who has always taken care of them, even when they didn’t understand and couldn’t see it right away.
