It’s fitting indeed that yesterday we celebrated All Saint’s day, and today we launch the My Faith Heroine series, celebrating the faith heroines who have blessed us, touched our lives and guided us along our spiritual journeys.
A few weeks ago I put out a call for entries for the My Faith Heroine Contest – stories about the women who have influenced you along your spiritual journey. Twenty-five entries later my Baker Books publicist Brianna and I chose three finalists – and believe you me, it was a challenge to narrow it down to just three! Many of the stories I read moved me to tears, and every last one of them was a beautiful testament to a faithful, cherished woman.
Today I welcome Lynn Morrissey, who writes about an unlikely friendship with a woman who graced her in endless ways and left an enduring legacy she’ll never forget. Join me in congratulating Lynn for writing one of the three winning #MyFaithHeroine entries!
Myrtle was dead. The shriveled brown body encasing her generous spirit let go at God’s command. Like autumn’s last leaf, thin and brittle as parchment, it drifted effortlessly to its final resting place.
I met Myrtle years ago. She was my heroine. What an unlikely pair we were, our backgrounds and temperaments as variegated as fall’s foliage. Myrtle was a venerable octogenarian of African-American descent—gracious, humble, and gentle. Yet her soft-spokenness was peppered with crisp humor and laughter that tinkled like a flurry of wind chimes. Her diminutive ninety-pound frame housed a prayer warrior who regularly conferred with her Captain and best friend, Jesus, whom she claimed could fix anything. And He did!
I was a thirty-something Caucasian with an impetuous nature. I loved God and His Word, but was frustrated by my faith that seemed to fluctuate like a round of Simon Says—two baby steps forward, three giant steps back. Solidly standing with feet firmly fixed on her Rock, Jesus Christ, Myrtle’s faith simplywas.
I stuck close to Myrtle, hoping to absorb her faith secrets, and she was only too willing to share them. Every Sunday, we met in our church’s tiny chapel. Myrtle always left the doors open so people could join us for prayer, but few ever did. Myrtle, whose arthritis might have dictated otherwise, insisted we kneel at the altar rail. Inch by inch, she pleated like a weathered accordion, and with one heavy sigh—shooo—finally dropped to her knees. I preferred my comfortable pew seat, but knelt out of respect for Myrtle. She knelt out of respect for God.
Myrtle prayed like she talked, simply and sincerely. I, who had struggled with prayer for nearly ten years as a Christian, was amazed at the effortlessness of her petitions, as if she were chatting over the breakfast table with an intimate friend. One knew that when Myrtle prayed, Jesus knelt alongside us, His presence palpable.
Myrtle didn’t just pray to Jesus, she sang to Him, too. Her favorite hymn was What a Friend We Have in Jesus, and that was no surprise. She sang to her friend Jesus while she baked, washed, dusted, or tended the generational dozens of children entrusted to her care over the years. She told me that singing gave her spiritual strength. Myrtle sang most heartily in church, where she shone like polished piano ebony among mostly white keys.
Sometimes it disturbed me that Myrtle demonstrated what I considered to be a subservient attitude towards her Caucasian counterparts, calling each lady by Miss or Mrs. and her surname. Myrtle is just as good as they, I thought, and knows her Bible better and can pray rings around them!
In retrospect, although I believe Myrtle hailed from a generation plagued with societally imposed racial distinctions, I learned that her personality was characterized by subservience to Christ. His humble servant, she showed deference to others. Her humility humbled me, and I longed to be more like her.
What a friend I had in Myrtle. I called her day or night, asking endless questions or relaying uncontrolled fears. She patiently listened, never criticizing, never minimizing my wrestling. She’d offer a Bible passage to enlighten, a prayer to uplift. “Jesus will fix it, Lynn,” she assured and I was soothed, though not always persuaded. My faith needed to grow.
Sometimes trials loomed larger than life, seemingly insurmountable. One morning at work, I made a desperate call to Myrtle, explaining that some board directors thought I was negligent in raising critical funds for the agency for which I was executive director. Some wanted me fired. “Jesus will fix it,” she insisted. “Let’s pray.” We did, and He did! I had never been one to toot my own horn, but at the next board meeting, I had an opportunity to explain that I had personally been responsible for generating a large percentage of support in both cash and in-kind donations. A naive young woman, I had done my job without reporting it. In response to Myrtle’s prayer, the Lord gave me courage to speak, and He gave me favor with the board.
Another call to Myrtle was even more desperate. I was forty and pregnant. This was a circumstance that couldn’t be fixed or altered by any amount of praying. And yet, in the ensuing months, as I confessed my anguish to my faithful, non-judgmental friend Myrtle, Jesus answered our prayers by fixingmy attitude. When our daughter was born, how proud I was to be her mother. And how proud Myrtle was to be included at Sheridan’s christening as her great-godmother.
Certainly arrogant pride was not one of Myrtle’s characteristics. “Why would you, a college graduate, ask advice from me?” she sometimes queried. I thought the answer was obvious. Myrtle possessed the God-given wisdom that I needed.
Yet near the end of her life, Myrtle’s wisdom was harder to discover. Her quick mind and quicker wit were overshadowed by the ravages of Alzheimer’s disease, scrambling her language into a kind of verbal Morse-Code gibberish. She could no longer talk to others or to Jesus.
One afternoon, in what was to be our last visit, I pulled her dusty hymnal from the piano bench, asking her daughter-in-law for permission to play for Myrtle. As I played the old familiar hymn, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Myrtle began to sing, “What a friend we have in Jesus …” Although she could no longer talk to Jesus, she was singing to Him just as she had throughout the years. While Myrtle couldn’t tell Him, she knew He was still her best friend.
Several days later, Jesus fixed Myrtle good as new. And now she’ll never stop singing.
Lynn D. Morrissey possesses the rare ability to probe beneath the surface, striking the heart of a subject, while sharing transparently from her own heart. She is passionate about journaling, through which God healed her of suicidal depression, alcoholism, and guilt from an abortion. She empathizes greatly with those who endure pain. A poetic word-stylist, Lynn sculpts beautiful language with her pen, and is the author of Love Letters to God: Deeper Intimacy through Written Prayer, and other books, contributor to numerous bestsellers, a Certified Journal Facilitator (CJF) for her ministry, Heartsight Journaling, AWSA speaker, and professional soloist. She lives with her husband Michael and college-age daughter Sheridan in St. Louis, Missouri. Connect with Lynn on Facebook or email her at: words@brick.net.
This post is part of the My Faith Heroine Series in conjunction with the release of
50 Women Every Christian Should Know: Learning from Heroines of the Faith.
What a beautiful woman you have as your faith heroine. Her Christ-like character shines through your description of her. What a blessing to have her in your life.
Elizabeth, thank you for these gracious words. I’m so grateful. Oh yes, that’s exactly it! Her character was fully formed by Christ. He was her Friend, her Life, her All. She was an unimaginable blessing in my life as a young Christan, and still, as I have continued my journey with the Lord. I’m so touched that she can be a blessing to you in this way. Thank you so much for commenting.
Love
Lynn
Michelle,
To say I am speechless would not be true. My husband, Michael, can attest to that! =] But to say I am deeply humbled and utterly grateful for this honor, doesn’t begin to do justice to my emotions. Myrtle was such a great lady of the faith, and such an ardent lover of our Lord Jesus. She has been with Him, face to face, for awhile now, and I can’t tell you how much I miss her. Yet as your readers will discover, she has affected me in profound ways that have changed my heart indelibly. She would have been so surprised to see her name and photo displayed on the Internet (in fact, she would have been surprised by such an invention as the Net, period)! But she was humble to the core, and could not have imagined such an honor or that people she didn’t even know (maybe even in other countries) would read about her walk with the Lord. And this is what made her so special: She was selfless and unassuming. All she wanted to do was to be transparent, so that Jesus would shine through her heart and life and receive all the glory. For so long, I’ve wanted to share her story and had no way of doing that. Thank you so much for your humility in sharing your “platform” as a way to promote Christ, to share the stories of women whose sole purpose for living was in doing just that. I am indebted more than I can say, Michelle. And while I have a way to do it, I want to tell your readers how wonderful your book is and how moved I am by reading about the lives of the women whose journeys you share. Myrtle used to always tell me that there is such strength to be received in telling our testimonies. I am strengthened with each essay I read in 50 Women and by your own testimony on your blog and in Spiritual Misfit, your memoir. I am in need of such strengthening because I am such a flawed person. Myrtle knew that, but she never let it deter her from encouraging me. I hope her story encourages others, too. And thank you for how *you* personally encourage us all, day by day, week by week, in your faithfulness to write your journey. If I were writing a postscript for your book, I’d add you as #51!!
With love and thanks,
Lynn
What a beautiful, inspiring story. So good. So true. We need more Myrtles in this world.
Oh Betsy, thank you for being inspired. This does my heart such good to know that Myrtle can still reach others. You would have loved her, and I suspect her feeling for you would have been mutual. I’m so grateful for your loving, affirming words. Thank you!
Love
Lynn
Thank You Lynn,
For sharing so humbly and beautifully you’re Faith Heroine!
Marie, and it’s I who thank *you*! Thanks so much for these generous words. I’m so glad that you were touched by Myrtle’s story. She was such a blessing in my life, and now, it just heartens me to no end that she is still blessing others. I’m so glad that you read and commented. Bless you.
Love
Lynn
Oh my word, Lynn. I’ve read this several times. What a descriptive and beautifully-written piece about a beautiful saint. Her humility has humbled me, too, and her faith has inspired me–as do you. Thank you for this.
Sandy, you are such a dear, kind, and generous saint. I can’t believe you would read my little essay yet again, but I so thank you for doing so and commenting. I’m glad that you have found Myrtle such a blessing, and can’t you just see us all meeting her with OUR Best Friend in the throne room one day? How she loved Him, and how I know that you do, too. Your writing continues to be an amazing inspiration in my life. Love you, sweet friend (and exceptional author).
Love
Lynn
Hymns have such a strong way of speaking to our hearts. Lynni portrayed that when she wrote of dear Myrtle. This was an encouraging story.
Sylvia,
Thank you so much for your kind words, and I’m so glad that Myrtle’s story encouraged you. She still encourages me, whenever I think about her, and also, of course, whenever I sing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” You are so right about hymns! How often they encourage and uplift, with their eloquent combination of Scripture, doctrine, heartfelt words, and heart-stirring melodies. I’m always blessed when we sing them i nchurch, and I often do here at home. I’ll be you do, too. Thank you so much for sharing!
Love
Lynn
I loved this tribute to the mighty woman of God, Myrtle, the first time I read it at Deidra’s—-and I am loving it again here at Michelle’s place. Congrats, Lynn on a lovely piece of inspiration— a beautiful testament to another great woman of God who has gone before us.
Dea, can’t believe that you would take the time to read and comment again. I’m so very grateful. THank you. Indeed, Myrtle was such a great woman of God, and that is just one thing that made her so endearing–the fact that she would never have considered herself as such. She was so utterly humble–so consumed with making Jesus great in her life and the lives of others. I know that you know her Friend. Thank you for all you do personally to introduce Him to others. I so appreciate you.
Love
Lynn
ohhhh, Lynn, Myrtle brought back wonderful memories of two black ladies who’s godly demeanor influenced me greatly on my spiritual journey……like Myrtle they conversed with Jesus all through their day and I await a reunion with them. Your writing is awesome, a treat to read! Thanks for sharing Myrtle with us.
Donna
Hi Donna,
Oh, you knew some precious saints, too, who no doubt you call your heroines. How wonderful of these gracious women to share the love of Christ with you on your journey….and now, you are doing that here with me. I’m so grateful. And my goodness. Thank you for such kind word about my writing. I’m grateful. May the Lord bless you in your remembrances of your friend, and just think, Donna: We’ll all meet someday!
Love
Lynn
The tears are streaming, Lynn . . . How blessed you were to have “Saint Myrtle” in your life. Thank you for sharing your story with Michelle and with us.
Blessings!
Martha, I so appreciate your loving words, and, yes, St. Myrtle fits as an apt description of my dearly, beloved friend. Of course, as I have expressed in my comments to readers and in the piece, itself, Myrtle would never have seen herself in this light……….which is precisely why she was so saintly, and so godly. She was humble and holy, and she set such a godly example of womanhood to me, without ever truly realizing it. I have a feeling that you set such an example, too, Martha. Thanks for commenting.
Love
Lynn
Oh, Lynn! Your beautiful words swept me off my feet. You touched my soul today. What a precious soul was Myrtle! You were so blessed to have her in your life. She is still encouraging others through your words. I so needed to be reassured and Myrtle’s words, Jesus will fix it, lifted me up. Bless you for sharing. And thank you, Michelle, for having Lynn as your guest. Blessings to both of you.
Hi Lynn (another Lynn without an E! 🙂 ), thank you sooo much for these most reassuring words about my beloved mentor and sister in the Lord and for taking time to share. I’m so glad that her words have echoed back through the years to bless you and, yes, definitely, that sweet Michelle was so generous to share her space (and to Deidra Riggs, who originally let me share about Myrtle there for the contest, and to Kel Rohlf for once posting on Myrtle). Whew! Myrtle is getting some mileage, and this just blessed my heart. I have yearned for a way to share her story. I think you will alway remember her counsel in times of need: Jesus will fix it. And indeed, Lynn, He will! God bless you!
Love
Lynn
Lynn,
What a gift to have had a friend like Myrtle and her example…this made me misty and happy as I read your beautiful tribute to your friend. Thank you 🙂
Oh Dolly, thank you. I totally get your sentiments, because on several occasions in these past two days, when I’ve reread my own words about Myrtle and others’ reactions about her, I, too, am moved to tears. She was such an amazing woman, always characterized by a sweet, gentle, and humble spirit. You would have loved her, and I can tell: she, you! I so appreciate your kind comments.
Love
Lynn
Absolutely beautiful Lynn. As I have shared with Michelle, she gave us all such a gift to remember 🙂 these heroines’ faith runs so deeply through ours…thank you for sharing about Myrtle…she sounds absolutely one-of-a-very-rare-kind 🙂
Abby, I so touched that you would take the time to write. Thank you beyond words. Oh…….indeed, Myrtle was rare and a unique lady in the Lord. How I loved her. My only regret is that Sheridan was never able really to know her. She was a baby when Myrtle died. How they both would have loved each other. I think that Sheridan has become the kind of granddaughter who Myrtle would have adored. I so agree with you that Michelle’s series has been so strengthening, as is her book. Just marvelous! I really need to get over to Amazon and write a review! =] You echo what Myrtle would have said (which I mentioned above) — that testimonies are so strengthening. I’m so glad that Myrtle touched your heart.
Love
Lynn
Lynn, what a powerful story–and congratulations–you definitely deserve a prize! I look forward to meeting your Myrtle in Heaven. Until then, we can all be blessed by her story. Thank you!
Oh Jody…….goodness. What gracious, generous words. Thank you so much. And of course, it’s not about me, but Myrtle. I just can’t believe how blessed I’ve been at last to be able to share her story. Soooo much thanks to Michelle i this regard, and loving women like you who have reached out to let me know that her story has blessed you. I so appreciate your kindness. And wow! Let’s you and I not wait till heaven to meet, ok?! 🙂 But what a reunion we will have with Myrtle and Michelle’s Fifty! Thanks again, Jody.
Love
Lynn
I. Love. This. I love Myrtle. My granddad also succumbed to Alzheimer’s. But sit him down to a piano and he could always play and sing. Your story, your relationship, was beautiful! Thank you.
Oh Traci, thank you so much for such glowing affirmation that Myrtle has touched your heart. I’m so very grateful. And how I would love to have met your grandfather. What *is* there about music to reach way down into souls and remember beauty when words and thoughts have run out? When Sheridan was small, I used to take her to Adult Daycare, where there were many Alz. patients. She and I sang for them (and I played piano poorly), but they didn’t seem to mind. They loved singing along, and the music brought forth words long-ago embedded in their spirits. It was amazing. What was also amazing is that one of the male residents mistook me for Dolly Parton (honestly!!!!!!!), but THAT is another story. 🙂 I hope you will share your grandpa’s story in writing. People need to hear it.
Love
Lynn
Lynn,
What a friend indeed. Thank you for opening your world to us and sharing Myrtle. We all wish there were more women like her in our lives. It’s nice to meet her in your story. I look forward to the day we meet Myrtle face to face.
Diane, so good to have you here, and I’m so glad that Myrtle’s story touched your heart. I’m so grateful to Michelle for permitting me to tell about her. I’ve wanted to for years. You are so rigth: We need more Myrtles–ladies few and far between I think……..except for the lovely blogging ladies I’m meeting like Michelle, you, my other new friends. God has gifted you all with such generous spirits. I know Myrtle would have loved you!
Love
lynn