Five second-graders later, it was Journey Grace’s turn to learn about an ancestor in our family. Since I could neither find nor remember enough details to help her write her report, I visited my 96-year old grandmother Eleanor. Memories stirred, Eleanor reminisced that her mother came from Denmark through Ellis Island sometime around the turn of the 19th century. “My mother was a little woman,” Eleanor mused, “but she was a fighter.” I had heard all that before in earlier conversations. What she told me next, though, I had never heard. “My mother Andrea weighed only three pounds when she was born,” Eleanor said. Three pounds!
Andrea was born tiny, but she was also born a fighter.
With that spirit, she survived infancy. My great-grandmother grew up, came to America, met my great-grandfather, gave birth to Eleanor, who gave birth to my dad, which led to me and my own bevy of kids. Humanly speaking, if Andrea hadn’t been a fighter, we wouldn’t be here.
Which leads me to wonder: What am I fighting for that will make all the difference in the world to those who come after me?
Or, perhaps the bigger question is, Who am I fighting for that will make all the difference?
If the “who” is all about me, then my life will not have great significance for those after me. But, if my life is all about the One who is greater than I, then I am certain that He will use my life to make a mark on the next generations.
As the Apostle Paul told his spiritual son Timothy, “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (1 Tim. 6:12).
I hope that the “many witnesses” testifying about me include a little second-grader who, generations from now, researches my life for her ancestry day and learns of a great-grandmother who loved Jesus and lived for Him with all her heart.
That’s who I’m fighting for.
A little three-pound inspiration reminds me of just how important that is.