Resolute

So, I wanted to share why, in part, Pearlie Mae is my mascot for everything I want to change in 2016.  It’s also my goal to write once a week so here WE go:

When we think of “resolution” we think of the word resolute.  It means being very determined, having or showing strong determination according to the very wise Mr. Webster.

AS my grandmother told it, when she was a young girl her family, having been in rural America long before it was actually a country, was Baptist.  Baptist by marriage.  Her father’s family line claims, as I later found out, the first Baptist minister in Pennsylvania.  From what I understand in the 1920s they were not active church goers, or avid worshipers or devout in any particular way, at least not the small, isolated immediate lot of them related to my Grandmother.  This is important to remember if by the time you finish reading this you try and have a Baptist vs. Church of Christ face off with me. 

They were Baptist in name, but they clung to that name with resolute pride.  So when a Church of Christ preacher came to town and started church meetings at a farm miles down the road, I’m sure it was unsettling for my Great Grandfather to see Pearlie attending with more and more dedication and fervor.  She was learning, and if I were to take a romantic spin on it, I would say she was getting from scripture, from praise, from worship what her heart was longing for; a thirst that could only be quenched by the Holy Spirit.  Isn’t that what we all long for and shout for joy when we find it? 

Now remember, people didn’t have Nike’s and Reeboks in that day and few had more than one pair of shoes and they had that if they were fortunate.  I bet their feet hurt.  It was sweaty on warm days and freezing on others, it was a long walk, period. 

After a few months of this, of walking miles with her small children to attend a home church miles down to road every Sunday, my Great Grandfather, his feathers ruffled, his pride challenged and his genealogy practically scoffed, put his foot down.  Whether he had the emotion or theology to back it up, he felt this was wrong; a slight to him and his history.  “You will stop attending this so called ‘church’ or you will not live in this house.”

Now, I don’t know how it went down.  I don’t know if Pearlie yelled or cried or tried to talk about it.  Maybe she tried to be logical, or overtly soothing and feminine.    I don’t know if he waved his fists and bellowed at the heavens spouting scripture or held to his long standing family identity or to a simple belief that he was the head of that household and what he said goes.  There must have been a conversation but I can only imagine what it was like.   

I do know whether it was a silent and graceful struggle or a wailing mess, she stuck to her guns and at some point clearly communicated her wishes.    She was to attend church and be a servant of God, whatever that entailed.  She held firm to what she knew to be right and quietly took herself and my grandmother to the neighbor’s farm.  The neighbors that had been hosting Church of Christ meetings in their modest home for months.  The church plant.

She stayed with them long enough to move a few of her things and my Grandmother’s like clothing and basic necessities. 

They helped with farm work and household chores…

And then…

He asked her to come back.  Another conversation I can only play beautiful music to, with its chords rising and falling, along with it in my head I imagine a vibrant, passionate, moving movie script. 

So she packed up her things, and this time I’m quite sure she gracefully and powerfully let the man who had refused her wishes lay his head on her shoulder and cry.  Man tears, there is scarcely anything more powerful than man tears.

As my Grandmother said, “We came home and I will never forget that he stood there, at the gate, and I watched him lay his head on her shoulder and just cry.”

She may never have forgotten that image and I will never forget her words.

There was something huge missing in their lives, or at the very least in hers and it was God.  Going after it caused a huge rift.  There were most likely personality differences and other struggles and fights that always boil up to the surface when something important is discussed.  But the result of her standing her ground was beautiful and moving and so very, very right.

Now, if you still think I’m going to go head to head on a Baptist vs. Church of Christ talk, get over it.  Go home.  If you think I’m telling you to take a stand with your husband, get over it, go home and work that mess out.  I would also share that they, as a couple later led a church and raised many a devout elder.  My grandmother, in fact, met my grandfather, and it was a deal breaker that he wasn’t a Christian.  He later took on Christ in baptism and much later in life became an elder and in turn, this family line has put forth many a servant of God. 

I’m saying what are you going to be resolute about?  What are you going to fight for?  What is going to drive you, to inspire you?  What is your long walk on a cold day, with aching blistered feet, when everyone else looks the other way that is so, very, very worth it?

Find it.  God made you to fight for it.  Study and let the scripture move you and be gracefully and poignantly resolute.