Family Tradition

50 years before I was born my great grandfather prayed daily. My mother remembers his long prayers, always in Swedish. He always ended by asking God’s guidance and blessing on his “children, his children’s children, and his children’s children’s children. Within my family, there has always been a foundation of prayer and faith in God tying each generation to the next.
His daughter Ruth, my grandmother, married Fred Lindholm, a charming man who had a temper and drank. She prayed for him for years. They had a farm out by Spring Garden and God blessed them with seven children. But sadly, Ruth died of cancer when her youngest was only 1 year old. Grampa Fred gave his life to the Lord shortly before she died. He never drank again, he raised those children alone, taking them to church, caring for their physical needs and praying God’s blessings on them daily. I never knew him to drink or swear, however, when he got very upset with something he would shout, “God BLESS America!” or “Good NIGHT anyway!” His tone was not one of prayer believe me! When I was little, during the fifties, my Dad worked nights for the railroad. His days off were Thursday and Friday, so he never had a weekend off, and my mother didn’t drive. But every weekend my Grampa Fred would come and stay with us. He would take us to whatever church we happened to live near. We eventually got a well rounded ecumenical Christian education.
Eventually I found out that God doesn’t have grandchildren—I found my own faith in God (a long story). I remember my first tentative prayers to God, “I hate to bother you God, and I know I don’t deserve this but . . .” It was amazing the coincidences that happened when I asked God for something impossible! Little things, big things, it didn’t matter. I started to think perhaps there was a connection. I was so excited about this relationship with God who really cared about me personally that John noticed the change in me. He was a little wierded out, but instead of arguing with him I prayed for God to send a Christian man into his life. I figured then he wouldn’t think it was a girl thing.
We serve a mighty God! Soon after that, by total coincidence, ☺ he was led to the Lord by his co-worker, Les Hanson.
Another day I asked God to teach me about healing. A little while later I was outside hanging clothes on the line. My preschool son, Stevie, was playing with his matchbox cars, the dog was munching out of her dish and kittens were frolicking in the grass. One of them crept up to the dog and sniffed at the dish.
In a flash the dog snatched up the kitten, snapped its neck and tossed it aside, where it lay, twitching, eyes rolled back into its head. Without thinking the words came out of my mouth, “Oh Stevie let's pray for this kitty!” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. A lot. The cat was obviously dead. What was God going to do about a cat with a snapped neck? Steve remembers “its head was pointing the wrong way and its eyes were rolled back in its head.” But the words were out, Stevie was already heading over to the kitten where it lay. I don’t remember the words I used, something like “God you made this kitty and you can make it well. Please heal this kitty.” With very little conviction I prayed. But to my amazement the cat immediately sat up, stretched it’s neck around like it was stiff, and got up and walked off, a little unsteadily. It wasn’t my faith that healed that cat, believe me. Stevie calmly went back to playing with his matchbox cars. No big deal. We serve a mighty God.
Following my great grandfather’s example I now pray for my own children. When they were younger, I began to pray for those whom they would marry, and their children.
Every summer my mother’s family has a reunion. We camp together for a weekend. On Sunday morning we gather together, old and young, to pray and sing and tell how God has worked in our lives during the last year, and some of the older relatives will tell stories about the “olden days.”
I look forward to the day when I get to go to the BIG Lindholm family reunion in the sky. My Grampa Fred is there, as is his wife Ruth and many other aunts, uncles, cousins and siblings. My husband is there. I am a Grandma now. I pray for God’s guidance and blessings on my children, their spouses, (or future spouses) and their children and their children’s children and their children’s children’s children.