Woman of Influence|Woman of Hope

I remember my grandmother as a woman of hope, but not a woman of faith. At least, we didn’t share the same faith.

 

My grandparents were Jewish, so is my mother, and so are my brother and I. (And if you want to get technical, so are my kids.) And if you know Jewish grandmothers, they are filled with hopes and wishes for their grandchildren.

To her chagrin, I disappointed many of her hopes along the way. But my grandmother (my dear Nanny) never stopped hoping for and loving me. 

Crushed Hopes

I crushed her hopes when I became a follower of Jesus when I was 19 years old. Actually, she didn’t find out about this until two years later, when I wrote a 7-page, handwritten letter. Despite my best efforts to show that Jesus is the promised (and hoped for) Jewish Messiah, my grandparents were undeterred. Yet, despite their woundedness (“Don’t ever talk to us about that again.”), they never stopped loving and hoping.

I was the first person in our family to have and advanced college degree, but Nanny hoped I would pursue a doctorate. She even dangled a carrot in the shape of a new car. She was disappointed when I turned down this opportunity, but she still supported my career.

Like all Jewish grandmothers, she hoped I would find and marry a “nice Jewish girl.” Fifteen years ago, I pursued and married a wonderful Gentile girl. It was not what Nanny wanted, but she came to my wedding anyway. And she bought us an entire set of dishes as a gift, which we still use today (minus the ones the kids have broken along the way).

And in yet another hope-crushing moment, after nearly ten years as a scientist, I left that career to because a children’s pastor at our church.

My Own Hopes

I think about the times I disappointed my grandmother, about all the hopes that Nanny had for me, which I never followed. I put my faith in Jesus and even worked for a church, I said “no” to higher education, and got a non-Jewish girl to say “yes” to marriage. Nanny’s hopes melted before her eyes, and yet she loved me.

And it makes me think about the hopes that I have for my own kids.

Am I pressing my own misguided and self-focused hopes on my own children? When they follow their own path, or the path that God has for them, will I have the faith and courage to support them?

My hope is this: that I can be more like my grandmother in so many ways. As I lead my family, want to live out a hope that is bigger than myself.

My grandmother lived out her hopes for my life. And despite me not following all those hopes, I am a better man because of her.

Next time, I will share with you how my grandmother’s nurturing empowered me to success, leadership, and ministry.

“Be joyful in hope.”  Romans 12:12

How have your own hopes for others hindered them in being who God created them distinctly to be and in what he is doing in their lives? How might having your hope fixed on God encourage and empower others in their own journey?

-Joey Espinosa, Downtown