In Loving Memory



Gerda Blizzard was my pastor's wife, in the Bible Presbyterian Church, when I was a very little girl. From the time I was four years old, until I was about eleven, she taught me the Bible every single Sunday morning...after playing the piano for the whole church, as we sang from our hymnals.

I think she told me every Bible story from Genesis to Revelation, via felt board. She assigned me memory verses every week, and patiently prompted me with only one word when it came time to recite. I was so motivated to please her.

When I was older, I well remember Paul's missionary travels, taught complete with maps that pulled down like shades, small footprints on them, traversing the then-known world.

With the wonders of modern technology, I googled Mrs. Blizzard just now. She was so fondly in my thoughts, I've been thinking all afternoon of her, and of how much I owe her.

She passed away one year ago today.

Tearfully, I am one year too late to tell her how much she meant to me. She taught the Bible faithfully to a little girl who, I am sure, seemed a frightful and precocious mess. I was a mess. But praise God for His great grace, for Presbyterians, their doctrinal views on election, and their emphasis on teaching the Bible to children.

All of it has been used of God to make me the woman I am, the wife I am, the mother and grandmother I am, the pastor's wife I am.

Wow. I am a preacher's wife, just like Gerda was. I could only hope to be so effective and selfless.
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