Did you know that God can and will use anything or anybody to further the gospel of his Son, Jesus Christ. To name a few verses recorded in the Holy Scriptures that testifies to this, how about Genesis 6:10. That verse tells how a dove brought a message to Noah that the flood waters had receded and land was in view. So Noah and his cargo could now dock and come out of the Ark. There are also many other verses about inanimate objects bearing messages from God to his people, as well as numerous animals, humans and celestial beings.

In my case, as I look back over my life, the Lord has engaged all Three Persons of the Trinity to foster me in spiritual learning, faith building and how to obtain a deeper understanding about sacred things. Hallelujah!! Thus, portrayed in the story below that I am about to reveal to you (in a two-part blog post), says it all. My grandmother’s prayers on behalf of her child (my mom) are felt even today, fifty years later! (For the record, I was blessed to have a praying mother and grandmother.) So thank You, Holy Spirit, for your grace and mercy and for positively growing my faith in You. YOUR GUIDING HAND HAS BEEN AN ANCHOR IN THE LINEAGE OF MY FAMILY FOR GENERATIONS…TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

It was bitter cold that day in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA.  I was standing at the window peering out from my mom's eleventh floor apartment.  I could see snow drifts on the streets below that appeared to be four or five feet high; cars were sliding in slow motion across white lines, yellow lines and cross walks.  It was a cold and windy day around Thanksgiving time in November 2001, and also my birthday.  I had traveled to Minnesota to celebrate my 62nd  year of life with my mom, who was lovingly referred to as  Momma T.

That particular morning, mom was on the telephone with one of her many girlfriends and she was laughing and interjecting bits and pieces of an amusing childhood story while at the same time discussing current events.  She was in such good spirits that day, and I could overhear her relate portions of an incident that had happened to her as a child.  Mom was sitting at her kitchen table and was fingering her personal telephone book, completely oblivious  of my presence in the room.  Her conversation so intrigued me that I turned from the window and deliberately eavesdropped on her.

After finishing her conversation, and hanging up the phone, I asked her what she had been talking about and implored her to tell me the whole childhood story.  It went like this:

The date was 1931 or 32. My mom was about 12 years old when the incident happened. It was in the winter time. Her adopted mother, Kate, (who was also her biological aunt) made delicious fried skins from the rind of bacon slabs. At that time skins (or cracklin’) were not sold in stores. Today these curled crispy morsels sell for about one dollar per bag. Momma Kate would slice the rind off bacon, put it in a large loaf pan and place it in the hot oven. It was not an electric or gas oven but a wood burning stove which turned fire-engine red when hot. Now this stove held its heat all day, but during the night the fire went out and the stove cooled.

The next morning the fire was rekindled by Paul, mom’s older cousin who lived with them. Now, the half-baked bacon rinds stayed in the oven for another day of cooking. This went on for about a week: Cooking, cooling and re-cooking until all the fat grease was extracted from the rind. Once the rind curled, it was done. The hot grease was drained from the pan each day by Momma Kate. As a child, baked bacon cracklin’ was one of my momma’s favorite treats. So, naturally, every day she asked Momma Kate gleefully, “Is it cracklin’ yet? May I peer into the oven to see if it is done?” Momma Kate said yes, but she cautioned my mom to be careful so as not to get burned.

(TO BE CONTINUED NEXT FRIDAY. STAY TUNED. COME BACK FOR PART 2.)

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