Francine Rivers wrote a book called 'A Lineage of Grace' that I read more than ten years ago. It tells the stories of five unlikely women who changed eternity: Tamar, betrayed by the men who controlled her future, she fought for her right to believe in a loving God. Rahab, a woman with a past, who was given a future by God. Ruth who gave up everything. Bathsheba whose beauty brought great pain and Mary who accepted challenge and great scandal in simple obedience to God. But recently, I've been thinking about the women I come from: 'they're faces in photographs, heads all held high, not afraid to look life in the eye: women with backbone, keepers of the flame,with a spirit even hard times couldn't tame'.
Sarah Geduld, my amazing grandmother who was still globetrotting well into her seventies. She reared her sons and one daughter to stand proud, even through the worst years of apartheid. But she also taught them about gentleness because her son, my father was one of the strongest and gentlest men I have every known. A man who knew an 'allemagtige Vader' and who sang 'Jesus loves me this I know' until we could sing it too. She taught him well, how to cook and clean but also how to be a son, brother, husband and father. My grandmother encouraged us to be strong and speak our minds; she certainly did ... always, whether you wanted to hear it or not.
Then there was Sally Stephens, wife to Charles and mother to Joan, Alice, Janet, Jean, Charlotte, Hazel and Daphne - and Ruby whom we never had the privilege to meet. When my grandfather was away during WWII, she held that family together and made sure that her daughters knew just what their father expected of them. She was always a lady, with a handkerchief in her handbag and the smell of Oil of Olay lingering around her.
Finally, there's my mum who has set her daughters an incredible example as a daughter, wife and mother. Her faith has sustained her and led her to take on challenges that might have crushed a lesser woman. She still opens her door to strangers who knock and offers sustenance, both physical and spiritual. She taught hundreds of children in Sunday School and introduced three generations of her family to Bill Gaither's music and the God that she loves. She made us walk to school but we always knew that if it rained, she'd be there to pick us up (licence or no licence).
Now I have my own children beside me and as they grow into manhood and think about the lives they will live, I want them to know the women they come from.
These are the women you come from;
The faith that sustained them is bred in your bones
You know what you're made of, where you belong
Cause these are the women you come from...
The Women I Come From
