
Children’s children are the crown of old men; and the glory of children are their fathers. — Proverbs 17:6 KJV
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children. — Proverbs 17:6 NIV
Thought and Reflection
A good man who fears God leaves an inheritance to his grandchildren, and the legacy of a godly grandfather should have eternal consequences in the lives of next generation.
He should instruct his sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters, in the things of God so they come to a saving faith in Christ. To be mature in the faith, grow in grace, and in a knowledge of our Lord Jesus.
My Prayer
Dear Father, thank You for putting us in families and for the roles and responsibilities You ordained within the family. I recognize the responsibility on fathers, mothers, and grandparents in bringing up their children and grandchildren knowing You.
Thank You for all the godly fathers, mothers, men, and women You have placed in each of our lives. I pray Your blessing on the men of our nation – the father and grandfathers of our land, and pray that each one would take the responsibilities of bringing up their sons and daughters in the way they should go so that each becomes a crown of glory in their old age and honored by their children. I pray this in Jesus name. Amen.
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Alona Smith writes like she sketches—quick strokes, bold colors, no eraser. She ran a small-town art studio before VerseForTheDay invited her to swap charcoal for chapters, yet paint still flecks her keyboard. Dawn finds her barefoot on the porch, swirling watercolors across a travel Bible, letting sunrise seep into the margins. Neighbors wave as she bikes to the farmers’ market, basket rattling with sunflowers and Psalms scribbled on kraft-paper price tags.Alona trusts that Scripture behaves like clay: press your palms in, and a vessel appears where empty air once lived. Afternoon workshops with foster teens prove the point; they mold hope into coffee mugs, then watch steam carry it forward.Diplomas? Only framed sketches of hands lifted in worship. Awards? A dog-eared gratitude list taped to her fridge. Open her reflections when cynicism scratches—she’ll slide a brush into your grip and show you light hiding in the smear of everyday color.