Granddaddy

Granddaddy

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. -Philippians 2:5-7

I first need to make mention, that the way you pronounce “Granddaddy” is probably not the same way that my brother and sister and I pronounce “Granddaddy.” Let me spell it phonetically for you, how we would pronounce the word : “Gren-deddy.” He was always “Gren-deddy” from as far back as I can remember. His name was Jack Spruiell, and he was the dairyman in our small Alabama town. Everybody knew Jack Spruiell. After all, he had the best ice cream and buttermilk anywhere around. People would drive for miles to buy his ice cream. I was proud to be his granddaughter. People would say “you’re Jack’s granddaughter, aren’t you?” It was nice to be noticed. And of course it was wonderful when your ball team decided to go for ice cream after the game. It made me feel special and proud. But looking back now, I had much more reason to be proud of my “Gren-deddy.”

If there were ever a man with a generous heart, it was my Grandad. I always, always remember him wanting us to have everything we wanted. Not in a spoiled way, but in a way that told us he loved us and he believed in our dreams. I remember my mom telling me of a time when she had just mentioned wanting to paint her porch swing. The next day he brought her all the paint and things she would need. My granddad and I had a common interest in horses. I think this really thrilled him and of course, I loved having somebody who would actually listen to my dreams of owning a horse. Sure enough, one day he fixed up the back yard with a barn and fence and we got a horse.

But there’s one memory of my Granddad that sticks out in my mind. One day outside of the ice cream parlour, there was some type of bird. I can’t remember if it was a pigeon, or a young robin that had not yet learned to fly. I loved animals and I wanted that bird. I was bound and determined to catch that bird and put him in a box I had found. I must have been having trouble catching him, because I have such a clear image of my Granddad running around, scruntched down on the ground, trying to catch that bird. Just imagine, Jack Spruiell, respected business man, community leader, crouching in the hedges and the shrubs, getting his clothes dirty, trying to catch a pigeon! It brings a smile to my face to remember that image of my granddad, but it also brings a tear. How much he must have loved me to do that. It was in the middle of the day and customers were surely watching him trying to catch that bird. He didn’t care though, because I needed help.

It may seem like a silly comparison, but if you think about it, this memory of my Granddad is a picture of the Father’s love for us. It would have been easy for my Granddad to sit back and watch me fail. Just like it would have been easy for Jesus to stay up in heaven and watch us live out our lives with our only future being one of eternal damnation. But God loved us too much for that. He humbled himself and became lowly so that we might come to repentance and a right relationship with God the Father. Yes, I knew my Granddad loved me. He showed me by giving up his dignity to help me, but incomparably greater is the love of my Heavenly Father. He gave up His Son Jesus so that I might be saved (John 3.16). He became sin that I might be the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5.21). He left His glory and majesty that I might escape the second death (Revelation 2.11). I always tried to please my Granddad in everything I did…how much more should I live for My Father in heaven who gave everything that I might have life? Here's me and my Gren-deddy around 1983