One of my favorite childhood memories is watching my mother
interact with her dad. She called him “Daddy”
in such a way that would make the strongest man melt to his knees. Even as she aged she called him Daddy, and he
answered so lovingly. I see that same
bond forming with my girls and their dad, and it makes my heart smile.
I was born in Los Angeles, California. My mother moved to the west coast in the late
60s and I came about 8 years later. When
I was six months old the car my mother was driving lost control and collided
with oncoming car. I was ejected from
the vehicle and tore multiple ligaments in my legs. My mother sued the automaker and after multiple
continuances and trial date changes, the case was finally gone before a jury
four and half years later. Right before
jury deliberations, the defendants came back with a settlement offer. My mother’s lawyer advised her to reject the
offer. Six hours later the jury came
back in favor of the car manufacturer.
Not liable.
My mother was distraught.
She thought she was going to win her case. She had plans with that settlement. Perhaps, start a college fund for me, or pays
off her bills, or take a vacation. The
money was spent in her head. Often times
we all make plans in haste before actually having exact facts. Now, this blog really isn't about my mother’s
reaction but the advice her daddy gave her when she made that defeated call
back home to tell her parents she had lost the case.
My grandmother and mom were on the phone for hours, probably
replaying the events of the trial, both having an opinion of what
transpired. My mother probably felt she
should have taken the settlement offer, because hindsight is always 20/20. But, when my granddaddy got on the phone, he
said, “Patsy, don’t count on anything, until it’s in your hand. Here is your mother.” 13 words.
One small sentence. My mother
remembered that for the next 30 years.
In fact, that was the only thing she remembered of that phone call that
day. It was the advice that her Daddy
gave, that she passed down to me, and that I shared with my family and
friends. As I told the story the other
day to my husband Michael, I was reminded how my grandfather truly was meek and
lowly, yet full of wisdom and strength.
I wish I could have seen then what I see now in my memories of him. A lot of his traits came from Jesus. My grandfather was a just man. He was a good man. I am sure he had flaws, for we all do. But, if there was any one that tried to
always do good works, it was Raymond.
Jesus loves us. He
loves everything about it. He wants us
to look at Him like we look and admire and respect the fathers in our
lives. God wants to be our counsel in
every aspect of our lives. The same
advice that my mother kept close to her heart for years to come from her
earthly father, He wants to give us daily.
Having faith that God truly has our best interest at heart
should always be in our minds. He isn't going
to take us down the wrong path. The bible
has plenty of promises of just the opposite.
He comforts us, loves us, restores us, molds us, and protects us.
It is my hope that some of the advice I learn through
walking and talking with Jesus; I can pass on to my children and they can share
a story 30 years from now. It is my hope
that they feel inspired like I do now.
