I am God’s child. I am created in God’s image and likeness. Why, I’ve often wondered, is it more innately natural for my older generation to fathom and cherish these realities than it is for today’s younger fold. After much contemplation, I’ve decided my long-deceased Nani best exemplifies the answer.
Seventy years ago, as an eight-year-young lass, I sat at my Nani’s feet and listened to him teach right from wrong and preach family name to be far more valuable than fame. Living up to (and protecting) family name was not a chore but a badge of honor, worth more than anything money could buy or competitive prowess score.
Back in the ’50’s, family was treasured. revered and pivotal in life. The wisdom and love of grandfathers and daddies were a stable staple that cemented family love within the lives of every member. My Nani and Daddy were the picture of love, security and protection. It wasn’t hard to envision God when His reflection stood (and knelt) in my midst. For me, this was the precursor to seeing God, my Heavenly Father, feeling His love and desiring to shine His image and likeness in the world.
In today’s modern world, family is not a three-dimensional image but, at best, a foggy mirage. It’s pretty doubtful for the lost to see God when His image and likeness is absent from their vision. Without the example of a caring and forgiving earthly father and family, it’s abstract to expect any society to mirror God in image and likeness.
I’m blessed beyond words for having grown up under my Nani’s (and earthly daddy’s) guidance, wisdom and love. My memories of them were the silhouette for my vision of God. May we all, on bended knee, pray not for future dreams but for past “Nani” reality to return.
Uplifted in a Broken Down World 