Authentic Faith Passed Down Through Family

A few years ago, tucked inside an old cardboard box I found a thin, brown spiral notebook that had belonged to my grandmother. As I opened its worn pages, I found something extraordinary: a written prayer for every single day of 1983, beginning January 1st and continuing without missing a day for over a year. That discovery awakened my understanding of faith in an unexpected way. 

Every morning now, I read one of her prayers as I begin my time with God. Her words, written decades ago, still speak directly to my heart, as if she somehow knew the struggles and hopes I would face long after she was gone. Reading her prayers has stirred something deep in me, a deeper appreciation for the faith that flows from one generation to the next.

I think about figures like Susannah Wesley, whose commitment to nurturing her children’s spiritual lives left an impact far beyond her own family. Her example reminds me that the faith we see flourishing in one generation often has roots in the intentional prayers and guidance of those who came before. This kind of spiritual legacy doesn’t happen by accident. It’s built through countless small moments—bedtime prayers, conversations about God’s love, examples of service and devotion lived out day after day.

Sometimes our faith feels routine, going through familiar motions without the fire we once knew. I was born into a church-going family, and it had been our way of life for generations. When I was younger, it was all about the schedule—Monday council meetings, Wednesday Bible studies and choir rehearsals, Thursday handbell rehearsals, Saturday service projects, Sunday worship. Church was simply where we were.

But as I grew up, I realized it wasn’t really about the schedule at all. It was about the people who poured time and energy into my life in ways that literally formed and renewed my faith over and over again.

I think of Mrs. Gore, my first-grade Sunday School teacher, who taught me “Jesus Loves Me” and helped me fall in love with Bible stories. I think of Pastor Tracy, my youth pastor, who let me question him, let me doubt, and loved me through every phase. I think of my parents, who prayed with me and for me, whose regular Bible reading taught me to set aside that same sacred time. I think of my grandpa, so big and tall with his booming voice, who taught me to sing hymns just by standing next to him in church.

This legacy of intentional faith makes me wonder: What kind of legacy am I leaving? In what ways is God using me to breathe new life into someone else’s faith? Am I making a difference? Am I being transformative in someone’s faith journey? We are all called to be part of God’s reviving work—not just pastors or church leaders, but all of us. And that happens through how we live our lives each day: how we treat and love the people around us, how we care for those in need, how we show up authentically for worship and in community.

Life is messy. The act of loving people is messy. Difficulty, hurts, sickness, death—all of it threatens to derail us from keeping our eyes on Christ. But God calls us to persevere, promising to give us strength and presence in the midst of life’s storms. When I think about the legacy of faith passed down to me and the legacy I’m conscious of wanting to leave, I’m reminded of Deuteronomy 31:8: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”

From the beginning, God has been at work in our lives, preparing a path. The same God who worked through Susannah Wesley’s prayers, who guided the hands that wrote in my grandmother’s prayer journal—that same God is at work in our ordinary, everyday moments of faith. Every conversation we have, every act of service, every time we choose love over selfishness, every prayer we offer—all of it becomes part of breathing new life into someone else’s faith. We become part of the ongoing revival that God continues to build through ordinary people living extraordinary love.

Today, whether you feel your faith burning bright or struggling to find even a spark, remember this: you have been shaped and renewed by the faith of those who came before you, even in ways you may not recognize. And you have the opportunity—the calling—to be part of God’s reviving work in someone else’s life.

My hope is that you might see how God has used the people in your path to grow you, to restore your faith through both joys and sorrows. And may you find the courage to show up authentically for others, knowing that through your presence, your care, your willingness to listen and love, God is already at work—weaving your story into His greater story of redemption and hope.

The fire still burns. The revival continues. And you are part of its beautiful unfolding.