Every testimony is an incredible story of God’s grace. I love reading accounts of the gospel transforming lives, and I hope you are encouraged as I share with you my heritage of grace. My story begins with missionaries who carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to a small village in South India in the late 1800s. God, in His great mercy and through those missionaries' sacrifice, redeemed my great-great-grandfather, making him the first man in my entire bloodline to turn from worshipping idols to worshipping Jesus Christ.
My maternal great-great-grandfather was a teenager during the end of British rule. When a terrible famine struck his tiny village, the English officials promised the villagers porridge—on one condition: they had to convert to Christianity first.
My great-great-grandfather, a proud Hindu, indignantly refused to do so. He stated that he was an Indian citizen and therefore had the right to receive provisions. He didn't want to accept a foreigner's God in order to do so. So while all the villagers converted to Christianity just for the food, he stood firm in his conviction.
Until a little-known English missionary, Reverend Lamb, entered the picture. There are no stirring biographies written about him, and no way of knowing who he was apart from the stories passed down in my family.
While others pressured my great-great-grandfather, Rev. Lamb patiently pursued the young man. He taught him to read, invited him into his house, and simply showed him the love of Christ. The Holy Spirit opened my great-great-grandfather's eyes, convicted him of his sin, and brought him to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.
After the famine, every single villager went back to idol worship. They had no need for the Christian religion now that they were no longer in hunger—except my great-great-grandfather, John. He spent the rest of his life serving his Master and passed down his faith so that five succeeding generations now have their names written in the Lamb's Book of Life.
That's the power of the gospel. One man obeyed the call to preach the gospel in a foreign land. One man trusted Christ for salvation and chose to forsake the gods of his ancestors. As a result, multiple generations of my family now have called on the name of Jesus and are saved. Now that's something to be thankful for.
"But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy." —1 Peter 2:9-10
The Power of the Gospel Across Generations
Ida Scudder was a missionary kid in India and came from a long line of missionaries, but Ida herself had no interest in following in their footsteps.
One night, as she sat by a lamp writing letters, three men knocked on the door of the mission house, one after another. The first was a Brahmin, the second was a high-caste Hindu, and the third was a Muslim. All three men were seeking medical help for their wives, who were having trouble in childbirth.
Ida's mother couldn't go because she was ill. Her father couldn't go because the local culture wouldn't accept such contact with the opposite sex, even if he was a doctor. Nor could Ida go, as she had no medical training.
Ida wrote: "I could not sleep that night; it was too terrible. Within the very touch of my hand there were three young girls dying because no woman would help them. I spent much of the night in anguish and prayer... all the time it seemed that He was calling me into this work.
Early in the morning, I heard the 'tom-tom' beating in the village, and it struck terror in my heart, for it was a death message. I sent out my servant, and he came back saying that all of them had died during the night. After much thought and prayer, I went to my parents and told them I must go home, study medicine, and come back to India to help such women.”
Graduating from Cornell University Medical School in 1899 (in the first class open to women), Ida traveled back to India and her life's work began. She started a roadside clinic to treat women in the surrounding villages and needed an electrician to help her run the generator. The young man she hired was my paternal great-grandfather, Devanesan. My great-grandfather had been working for a priest at his local temple. He hadn't gone to school past third grade but was skilled in other trades. He followed Ida around as she lovingly treated people and met many other missionaries working in his hometown, Vellore.
Through their faithful witness, God called him to saving faith in Jesus. We don't know who led him to Christ; only that some planted, some watered, and God gave the increase. Despite his simple background, my great-grandfather demonstrated the fruit of his genuine salvation through his steadfast faith. He was especially fervent in church attendance and spiritual disciplines, and had his grandson (my dad) read Scripture to him after his eyesight failed.
Today, many of his children, their children, and their children's children worship Jesus Christ. Ida Scudder's tiny clinic is now one of the largest hospitals and teaching institutions in South India. Many of my own relatives have studied or worked at Christian Medical College in Vellore. Ida and her fellow missionaries could make humble sacrifices because of their Savior, who made the biggest sacrifice by offering Himself for all mankind. Again, generations can be blessed because of the transformative power of the gospel.
“One generation shall praise Your works to another, and shall declare Your mighty acts.” —Psalm 145:4
A Personal Journey of Faith
My mom and dad were fourth and third generation Christians, respectively, as their (great) grandparents were the first in their families to receive salvation and forsake Hinduism for Christ. My parents follow Jesus with all their hearts and built a home filled with the love of Jesus Christ. They taught me everything I know about faith, family, home, and ministry.
Despite this beautiful legacy, the faith of past generations passed down to me wasn't enough to save me. I already had the blessing of a family that loved the Lord, but then the marvelous grace of God appeared to me, raising me to life in Jesus Christ and reconciling me to God. I distinctly remember kneeling down beside my parents at the age of three—believing in my heart and confessing with my mouth that Jesus died, was buried, and rose again to save me.Some might believe my testimony is “boring,” having known Christ and experienced His love from such a young age, but I consider it nothing short of a miracle—a marvelous heritage of grace that brought salvation and sanctification to someone so undeserving as me.
Over the years, I have grown to know Him more and love Him more, as He has proven His great mercy and love in my life. The blessings of being raised in a Christian home only multiplied, as my parents nourished me spiritually for as long as I can remember. From Scripture memory to theology studies, family worship, and serving at church, brick by brick a foundation was being laid.
When I was 12 years old, my parents obeyed the Lord's call to go to the mission field. I was not keen on moving to the other side of the world, but the next several years would prove to be crucial in refining my faith.
I spent my teenage years actively serving in church planting and outreach with my family. Being in missions opened my eyes to things I'd never seen before, such as spiritual darkness, trials, and opposition, but also the mighty power of God, joy and abundance, and the rewards of a surrendered life.
I learned that the Lord was more interested in the work He was doing in me than in the work I was doing for Him.
As I got older, more storms arose and winds threatened to shake my faith. I've wrestled many times with doubt and apathy, withdrawing and wandering as my heart forgot God's faithfulness. But His mercy was more.
His grace abounded to me in so many ways: giving me a godly heritage and a gospel-centered home, redeeming me with His blood, and drawing me back when I would have gone astray. For as long as I live, I will praise the Lord for His goodness and grace. The twenty-six (and a half) years I've been on this earth have not always looked like what I wanted for myself, but in His infinite wisdom, the Lord has taught me to trust Him.
“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope…” —Psalm 130:5-7
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