
When one woman plants, generations bloom.
I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow 1 Corinthians 3:6
When I was a teenager and young adult, I used to roll my eyes at my grandmother. Sometimes I even avoided her. She was always talking about God, about living morally, about Jesus, about salvation. It never failed: if you visited or called, she would find her way into a mini‑sermon. I’d try to steer the conversation somewhere else, but she always circled back to eternity.
As I grew older and had children of my own, her words began to return to me. The scriptures she quoted, the warnings she gave, the gentle urgings toward Jesus, they settled into my memory like seeds I didn’t know had been planted. Slowly, I began to see her wisdom.
And now… I am the grandmother.
I’m the one talking about salvation to anyone who will listen. I’m the one weaving Jesus into conversations. I’m the one praying that the seeds I scatter will take root when the soil is ready.
There are seasons when we cling to the faith of those ahead of us. There are seasons when we walk beside others, learning together. And eventually, there comes a season when God lets us become a steady place for someone else, not because we’re perfect, but because we’ve walked with Him long enough to carry a little light for the ones coming behind us.
I didn’t set out to become the scripture‑sharing grandmother. But maybe this is what spiritual maturity looks like in everyday clothes, stepping in, helping, and quietly filling the role someone needs in the moment.
We don’t stay the same. We grow. We shift. We become. And every season, the young one, the mom, the grandmother, is holy in its own way.
So don’t be afraid to share Jesus with those who look to you for guidance. Don’t be discouraged when they don’t respond right away. Have faith in the seeds you plant.
They will open when the soil is right.
Typist for Jesus
If this Seed touched you, consider sharing. Together we can share Jesus one seed at a time.
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