How to Really Build a Family That Lasts Forever

It’s a humbling grace to welcome Jessica Smartt to the front porch today, as she’s writing from her own front porch, overflowing with farm cats and probably caked with debris from all those free-ranging chickens! Jessica and her husband live on a family homestead start-up in North Carolina with their kids, Jessica’s sisters and their families, and her parents. The four white houses form a cul-de-sac that’s home to a lot of mud, soccer games, cookouts, and the occasional cousin spat. As a recipient of a strong family, she knows strong families aren’t perfect, but they are worth it. It’s an honour and joy to welcome Jessica to the farm’s table today…

Guest Post by Jessica Smartt

October 4, 2021.

Two weeks from Grammy’s 93rd birthday. 

Six of us huddled around her bed. There are so many details I can’t forget.

The crackling rattle in her labored breathing, each breath so unnaturally far from the last one. My sister on the other side of the bed, so strong, singing hymns. Her voice wavered and caught, but she kept singing, distinctly and loudly. 

I was not sure when it happened.

Her breaths were minutes apart.

When was she gone? When was she here?

We told her she could go, that we would be okay. We realized she was crying—eyes glassy, distant, fixed on nothing—but somehow we knew she had heard. 

In the final minutes, my dad spoke familiar, comforting words over her. 

“In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:2-3). 

It was a holy room, full of sorrow and hope, aching and beauty . . . and so much love. She was dearly loved. 

I don’t want to die, but I do want to die like that. 

Ninety pounds with a handful of sweaters to her name when she died. But Grammy? She was the richest, whole-est person I have ever met. 

She built a legacy. 

Legacy: the long-term impact of the events or actions in a person’s life.

To use the word legacy feels so cliché, imperfect.

How can I explain what she left? What she did?

Seven children, 21 grandchildren, 36 great-grandchildren. 

Every single one of them knew they were loved by Grammy. 

One time she was going to the store. “Do you need anything?” she asked me with her beautiful smile. “Oh, yes, some potato chips, some pretzels, some ice cream, some candy . . .” It was a lame attempt at a joke from a nine-year-old. 

She came back an hour later, saying, “I think I got it all!” I felt terrible, and terribly loved.

She lived meagerly, spent all she had on all of us. Always on us. Her double-wide was the house of canned peaches and Schwan’s pizzas and perfectly layered macaroni and cheese and Push Pops and Country magazine and the old awful couches where we made so many memories. 

Grammy made home. She defined it. 

“You wonder if you have what it takes to break the cycle, to overcome the challenges in your circumstance to give your kids a different legacy. And I want you to know: Family doesn’t have to be perfect to be strong. “

Her life was spent at the kitchen sink and the stove. She poured hours into loving people with sausage, eggs, and Folgers coffee. She gave us a rich, rich life. 

I want this kind of legacy. Her life was not wasted. 

One time my husband told my mom, “Thank you for loving Jessica so well. You loved her well, and now she can love well.” My mom was loved, and she loved, and I can love. It has been legacies of love. 

I imagine you reading this now. Are you crying with me? Grammy is an inspiration to those of us who want to build a lasting legacy of love and faith. 

But if you aren’t crying, maybe you’re mad. Because maybe this all feels foreign, impossible. Family is so messy, so terribly specific and practical. You wonder if you have what it takes to break the cycle, to overcome the challenges in your circumstance to give your kids a different legacy. 

And I want you to know: Family doesn’t have to be perfect to be strong . 

My Grammy spent her life planting seeds, growing a family. Some of her work was fruitful and reaped blessings. Some of it was not. She planted and sowed, suffered and rejoiced. 

And then she went Home.

As I write this, I am one week from turning 43. I am not old and wrinkled in my bed. I am not really thinking about a heavenly home. Perhaps you, too, are in the thick of it, building your home, building a family. 

It is not fun to think that you and I are approaching the place Grammy was. In truly a blink, our short lives will be over. We could ignore this fact and try not to think about it (which is what I mostly do). 

But we could also number our days and gain a heart of wisdom.

How does thinking about Going Home—having an eternal perspective—impact growing our family? 

First, it makes the small things seem small again.

In light of eternity, spats with our husband or grumpiness with a child hits us in a different way. When the vacation gets canceled, when the family night ends in a tantrum, when a child is in a funk . . . remembering how short life truly is helps us to keep these things in the proper perspective. 

But also, in some amazing way, thinking of heaven also makes the little things matter more . 

“But ultimately, our temporary haven, at its best, points us toward our Real Home.“

I am loving people into eternity by pointing them toward God’s love for them. I get to make them dinner again! I can discipline with fresh hope and a little more patience. I am not just dealing with annoying humans; I am loving immortal souls. 

We want our kids to come home. We want them to like being home. We want to build a beautiful home. 

But ultimately, our temporary haven, at its best, points us toward our Real Home. 

This gives me hope.

When we fall flat on our faces (we will), it is not the end of the story. If we do everything wrong and seem to irrevocably mess up our job as parents, it is not the end of the story. 

Someone stronger than us, more loving than us, is calling us Home. 

He is preparing a place for us. As we parent our children, God is parenting us.

I want to build an amazing home, but even if I fail, it is okay.

Home is waiting. 

Jessica Smartt is the author of Come On Home: A Grace-Filled Guide to Raising a Family Who Loves (and Likes) Each Other .

If you’re tired, overwhelmed, or wondering if you’re doing this parenting thing right at all, this practical and encouraging book is for you.

Jessica and her husband, Todd, have three kids whom they homeschool. She is passionate about energizing everyday moms to save childhood and build close-knit families. Jessica loves spinach and artichoke quiche, a clean kitchen, being warm, national parks, and food that anyone else made.

You can find Jessica on Instagram and at Jessicasmartt.com.

{Our humble thanks to Tyndale for their partnership in today’s devotional.}