My Grandma Jennie Belle tells the story of how during the Depression, my Great-great grandmother Jennie would rise before dawn and disappear somewhere down by the creek.

One morning her curious children followed her and found her knelt by a log, deep in prayer.

She did this every morning her whole life, penniless and overworked, while the whole world looked hopeless—but not to her.

She wasn’t resigned to starvation or apocalyptic headlines.

She prayed for generations to come, who would rise on prayers whispered in red Southern dirt with no witnesses, except her spying children who lived to tell about it.

Here I am, nearly 200 years later, still spying on her through the stories about her faith—still inspired by her prayers.

Grandma said if ever a revival wasn’t catching on, the preacher would ask Grandmother Jennie to testify.

So she would stand in the midst of throat-parched congregants who’d prayed and begged as best they knew how, not sensing the Presence of the Lord in their angst. But she would rise from her seat and praise the Almighty who loved her, and the Spirit of God would consume the church, igniting His people with hope. 

She lived barely 40 years, but generations later her prayers are alive and well.

Because of her, I refuse to let bad news consume me, because we are never without hope as long as one person is willing to pray.

When I think back on Great Grandmother Jennie knelt near the creek, knees pressed into dewy earth, I want to whisper to her that I know… I know about her prayers… Although she assumed nobody but Father God saw her offering, The Miracle Maker blew the embers of what burned inside her and those sparks reached me generations later. I know about her, because He saw.

 

You are the God who sees me.

~ Genesis 16:13

 

God sees you today, where you are…all those little things you think nobody will ever know about. You are not unseen.

God sees your offering, and The One who needs nothing from us takes the embers of our offerings into His Hands and breathes on them until they roar.

Your testimony is your life—

Your praise when everyone else is hopeless.

Your thanks-giving when everyone else is complaining.

Your trust when everyone else is panicking.

Your love when everyone else is bitter.

Your testimony is your torch far ahead on the path your children are following in crazy zig-zags off the sides and back on again—but they’re following your light up ahead because without it they can’t see The Way at all.

Keep walking alone, if you have to, because you are not alone.

 

Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses…

~ Hebrews 12:1

 

All of heaven is cheering for you, and the Spirit of God is still turning meager things into enough for thousands to feast on.

He sees it all.

Sometimes when my mama hands me a basket of fresh eggs off The Farm, she’ll grin and apologize for the “organic residue” still on the eggs. Fresh eggs can’t be washed until right before use or the shells will absorb bacteria into the yolk.

This morning as I let clean water run over a fresh egg, I thought of Christians I know who are different from everyone else.

They’ve got a little dirt on them, a little organic residue.

They’ve loved messy people, lost friends doing their best to follow the Messiah, and gone to lonely places to pray instead of defending themselves.

I wonder if they think no one sees.

As I held that perfect little egg in my hand, I thought of The One who made it, who will one day lovingly bathe the red mud off our knees and say, Beloved, I was always with you, always watching. Well done. You did good.

 

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Well done, good and faithful servant! You’ve been faithful with the little things…Enter into the joy of your Master!

~ Jesus

{Matthew 25:23}