Grandmothers, It’s Time to Bloom

This post originally appeared in a newsletter from Aviva Nuestros Corazones, our Spanish-language outreach! It has been translated and adapted from the original for you, our readers. Enjoy!

When I think back to the first decade of my life, my mind immediately goes to a place that fills me with happiness: watching my grandmother make meringues and cakes. I remember the sweet smell of vanilla whipped with sugar that filled the house—a sure sign she was baking a cake. I also remember the immense love I received on weekends, when I could go to that wonderful place that was my grandparents’ home. Decades have passed since that special season, but the impact my grandparents left throughout their lives—including my grandmother’s teaching about the home and self-control—remains ever present with me. 

So often, we don’t fully appreciate the impact of a grandmother until much later in life. If you still have a grandmother, I encourage you to make memories with her. And, dear sister, if you are a grandmother, I challenge you to see your role in this season as something special—a unique role God has reserved for you and me at this time. 

The Blessing of Blooming 

At this stage of life, it may feel as though everything moves more slowly. We no longer have the same speed or energy we once had as mothers. But now we carry maturity—the deep experience of walking through life while being held by the hand of our God. We have passed through many valleys and have received His embrace, His comfort, and the guidance of His Word—and that is a treasure to pass on to our grandchildren.

Through our testimony of faith, through our teaching of the Word, and through our prayers, our grandchildren can come to see that God is real. In the family, grandmothers may be like columns quietly upholding and supporting their loved ones in prayer. The psalmist wrote, 

Then our sons will be like plants
nurtured in their youth,
our daughters, like corner pillars
that are carved in the palace style. (Psalm 144:12). 

Those columns have matured and can testify to God’s faithfulness through the years. We must continue encouraging our children, showing love, and passing on the faith to our grandchildren. It is a different kind of blooming, but it is a precious work that God has given us the privilege to do. 

It doesn’t matter whether your grandchildren live nearby or far away—there are countless ways to pass on your legacy. As a grandmother with grandchildren in other countries, I pray for them every day—for their salvation, for tender hearts toward God, for quick responses to His Word, and for their emotions—that they would not be ruled by them. You can also pray for their friends, their health, their studies, and their needs. And remember: your cry is always heard.

The LORD is near to all who call on him, 
to all who call on him in truth. (Psalm 145:18)

Your Prayers Reach What Your Arms Cannot Embrace

Growing older alongside your grandchildren is a gift from God. One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 92, because it says that the righteous flourish like the palm tree and that even in old age they will remain vigorous and green, declaring that the Lord is upright. What is beautiful to see is that this palm tree is the date palm, which produces its sweetest and most abundant fruit in maturity—between thirty and eighty years of age. It blooms no matter how dry the ground may be. 

My beloved sister, God has planted you in your family so that, as a grandmother, you may be a source of strength—cultivating abundant fruit for others: to love, to show His truth, and to pray for your descendants without growing weary. 

Nothing is in vain at this time. God hears our prayers, gathers our tears in His bottle, and each day, if we depend only on Him, He will give us the grace and wisdom to speak to our grandchildren of His love and mercy. 

Lord, may the children You gave us, and all our generations to come until You return, be able to stand on that day alongside us, praising Your blessed and precious Name. Amen.

Life pulls at you from every direction—but your heart longs for more than hurry.