My grandmother went home to Jesus this week, so naturally I had to write about her. Not too long ago, I was at her house and as always we were discussing everything from hog killing to child birth—nothing was off the table at Mawmaw’s house. I asked her if she had always read the Bible like she does now. The first thing anyone will tell you about her is that she was a mighty woman of faith. With no embarrassment in her tone at all, she told me there was a time when she didn’t. She said one Sunday at church she went to the altar and asked God to give her a desire to read the Word. Then she said “And He did.” My heart was so uplifted. I thought there was still hope for me yet, then! We often look at other people’s lives and we didn’t see what it took to get there so we don’t know what it cost them. Every situation we face adds to the price we pay for the life we live today. It is no one else’s price to pay, so don’t let the critics keep you from the life God wants for you.
I am reminded of the woman with the alabaster box in the Bible, she broke open her box of oil worth about a years wages and poured it on Jesus’s feet. When the others started to criticize her Jesus said in Mark 14:6, “Leave her alone, why criticize her for doing such a good thing to me…” and in verse 8 “She did what she could.”
The song Alabaster box by CeCe Winans says it perfectly:
“And I've come to pour my praise on Him like oil from Mary's alabaster box.
Don't be angry if I wash his feet with my tears and dry them with my hair
You weren't there the night Jesus found me. You did not feel what I felt when He wrapped his loving arms around me, and
You don't know the cost of the oil
Oh, you don't know the cost of my praise
You don't know the cost of the oil
In my alabaster box”
My grandmother was very blessed that all of her children and grandchildren serve the Lord. I do not know the price she had to pay for that. I don’t know the number of nights she spent on her knees calling our names out to God. I don’t know the amount of tears she cried begging God to save us. I don’t know the cost of her oil, but I do know she poured it at Jesus’s feet. She used her life to serve Jesus. That is her legacy. Legacy doesn’t start when you die, it is the life you live and continues on in the ones you cared for. I am part of her legacy because she poured her expensive oil out to God for my sake. Many times I stood beside her as she raised her hands to heaven, tears streaming down her face, now it’s my turn to tune out the critics and offer my life as a fragrant oil to the Lord. My prayer for whoever reads these words is that you will unashamedly come to Jesus with whatever you have in you and that He can say of you, “She did what she could,” just like He did to the woman with the alabaster box.
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