My mother grew up in a small Alabama town called Brundidge. Many a time during our childhoods, my sister and I journeyed there with our parents. Sitting in our car’s backseat, we watched pastoral landscapes as we rumbled along narrow country roads. Corn and cotton carpeted numerous acres. Cattle grazed other fields. To alleviate our boredom and to keep us reasonably quiet, our parents invented a “counting cows” game. Whoever counted the most cows on their side of the car, till we reached Brundidge, won it.
I don’t know about my sister, but I enjoyed this game. And since I was born and reared in big-city Mobile, rural living fascinated me. No beeping cars, no sirens, no busy shopping centers as in my hometown. Just fresh air and peaceful neighbors. Also, my grandparents.
My grandfather’s gas station and Ford dealership stood on its main street. Oh, my mind forms wonderful images of my grandparents and this town! The memory that moves front and center, though? My grandfather’s walk with God. Little did he realize the impression he’d made on my young mind.
When we prepared for bed I always slept in my grandparents’ room. My bed stood against a wall opposite theirs. While snuggled under my sheets, my eyes followed my grandfather’s movements. He’d sit in his rocker near a floor lamp, its bulb shining through its opaque shade.
His Bible in his lap, he’d read God’s word. After a period of time, he closed the Book then knelt beside his bed. His mumbles drifted to my ears, and I knew he was talking with God.
Decades have passed; my grandfather’s influence remains. He inspired me to read my Bible and to know God. He never preached with his mouth. His life was a sermon. I’m sure he’d agree with the Apostle Paul, that I’m trying to imitate his walk of faith (1 Corinthians 4:15-16). Thanks to his example, he preserved his grandson from the pain of sin.
This and other devotionals are found in Reflections of a Southern Boy: Devotions from the Deep South which is available on Amazon.













