I am not my grandmother, nor would she want me to be.  Ladies, none of us are Grandma.  We are not our mothers.  Most of us are not the women of Proverbs 31.  We are today’s women of faith: we have our bumps and bruises…our imperfections, but we are not broken.  We pick ourselves up time and again, and with God-given grace we survive all life’s trials.  We are SALT (Surviving All Life’s Trials).

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?  It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men” (Matthew 5:13).   At one time, salt was a currency.  Roman soldiers were paid with salt and those who weren’t “worth their salt” received little because they were not worthy of their full allotment.  If salt loses its saltiness, it is worthless as stated in the book of Matthew.  In ancient times, salt that lost its saltiness was mixed with gypsum and used to seal roofs.  The word gypsum means “bitter.”  The analogy, as explained by Jack Wellman in his article, “Why are Christians Called to be Salt and Light?” is that Christians who become bitter lose their saltiness and are not good for much more than repairing a leaky roof or to be “trampled underfoot by men.”

My grandmother died thirteen years ago.  She was an amazing woman who had lived a life that had seen both World Wars and those that followed, women’s suffrage, the stock market crash and the Great Depression, the Civil Rights Movement, and so many changes in society.  She lost her husband and remained alone for 23 years.  I remember how heartbroken she was…even though I was young, I remember.  But my grandmother was a woman of faith.  She had to be.  Her faith is what she clung to after her husband was gone.  She had raised her children.  She had five grandchildren and multiple great grandchildren, but the love of her life was gone.  There was no starting over.

I remember sitting at her funeral service and listening to Pastor Mark talk about how she had just the right amount of salt.  I didn’t fully understand.  My grandmother had been a cook before she retired, and she was always taking food to the church for one event or another, but that wasn’t what Pastor Mark meant.  My grandmother had just enough salt to add the right seasoning to her life and to others.  She was not bitter.  She was sad, but she did not let that sadness spoil the good she could still do with the rest of her life.

My grandmother would have been so disappointed to have seen my marriage end.  She loved my ex-husband like she loved the rest of her grandchildren.  She respected him and thought he was a good man.  She would have been disappointed, but she would have told me to pick myself up  and move on.  She would have told me to be strong, and she might have even made some less-than-Christian comments.

But more than anything, Grandma would have told me to get over it.  She would have told me I deserve better, and she would have been right.  So this is me getting over it.  I hope that something posted here might help other women who are also struggling.