I heard a speaker say once, "you will never get to know yourself while you're eating ice cream." I have pondered that statement for a few years. I think he's right. His point was that you don't find out what you are made of when you are enjoying easy times. You have to experience the crucible of hardships to truly discover the strength of your character.
Recently I was back in Middle Tennessee and made a point of visiting my maternal grandparents house and farm near Unionville, TN. It had been years since I had been there. The home place was sold at auction after my grandmother died at age 87 in 1976. The place seemed smaller than I remembered and closer to the Nashville highway. But it still had that familiar dormer window and that front porch - although I did notice the porch swing and rocking chairs were gone. Since no one lives in the house I took my time and walked around and remembered. I remembered the peddler - a man with an old school bus converted into a rolling grocery store that came by and stopped twice a week. In the summer when we visited my grandmother - we called her Grandmama - we would sit on the porch and watch for that white bus and usually we would climb on and spend the nickel she'd given us on some bubble gum or Tootsie Rolls. My grandmother would usually call in an order and the peddler would have her box of goods ready - except for the cold milk and butter. After we had rushed on the bus and chosen our treats my grandmother would climb on the bus and check off the items in her box and - after the cold items were added from the refrigerated case - she would pay the bill. We'd hop off with our treats in our pockets carrying the box of groceries back to the house.
I remember sitting on the porch as the cars whizzed by on the Nashville highway. We played a game we called "cars". We would each pick a color and then count the cars that matched our chosen color. My older brother would usually pick black as his color and would usually win. But it was still fun.
As I walked around the old home place most of my memories were of my grandmother - Evie Wheelhouse Eley. She was short - probably not five feet tall - and thin and quite stooped by Osteoporosis. She was tanned and wrinkled by the sun from years of gardening and from decades of braving every kind of weather to manage 20 to 30 white-faced Hereford cattle. She got up very early - around 4 am - and would wait just as long as she could to start cooking breakfast for us. But, with daylight being wasted, around 6 or 6:30 she'd start cooking country ham and biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs and by 6:45 she would be yelling up the stairs to wake us. As I walked to the side of the house and looked up at the upstairs windows I could still hear her yelling in her high pitched voice, "Heeeyyy - are y'all gonna sleep all day?"
My grandmother had a tough life. She was born in 1889. She raised eight children. When she was thirty years old she lost a baby - little Don Bright Eley - who died on September 30, 1919 after living just over two months . After my grandfather died at the age of 76 in 1961, Grandmama took on the work of the 100-acre cattle farm. She was already 71. In the winter she would go out and break the ice on the water troughs for the cows. She would climb the ladder to the barn loft and throw down hay to feed the cattle. In her early eighties, when it became difficult for her to climb the ladder up to the barn loft, Grandmama took her hand saw and some lumber and nails out to the barn and built herself some stairs to the loft.
She planted and tilled and harvested a large garden. Then she put up frozen corn and canned beans and tomatoes and okra and jams and jellies.
Grandmama was tough - a toughness proven in the hardships of life. Everyone who knew her would tell you that she was strong and tough and resourceful and one of the hardest workers you could ever meet. But she was not only tough and strong - she was also a godly woman with a faith that was demonstrated and lived out through all the hardships of life. And it was her undying devotion to God that was perhaps her most prominent quality. She read her Bible daily. She helped build the church building in her community. She hosted visiting preachers and cooked - I guess - thousands of meals for people during her lifetime. She saw God in everything - whether in the birds she fed in her handmade feeder or in the beautiful roses she grew, or in the changing of the seasons or in the smile of a grandchild.
As I get older I think more and more about trying to be more like Grandmama. I hope that if I have to face tough times in my future that I can do it with the same strength and grace which she demonstrated. I pray that I will always see God in the small beauties of life and that I will somehow live up to her legacy of devotion to God.
Yes - I know you can never know what you are made of until you face tough times. But it seems important to me to go ahead and work on these character traits before the test comes. I surely hope I will have the discipline and determination to be NOW who I hope to become when I face the trials of the future.
