When I think of my grandmother, a passage from 2 Timothy 1:5 comes to mind. 


 "When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also."


At the hospital, before she passed away, there were a few moments where it was just me and my grandfather in the room with my grandma.  I wanted to tell her goodbye and express my heart to her one last time.  I stood up and leaned in close, arms resting on the bedrail.  I could only whisper to her through my tears and I hope she heard me.  I thanked her for the godly legacy she left.  I told her I was so glad I got to go grow up in church with her there too.  I thanked her for the care and concern she showed towards me and Jason, and our children.  She knew she was blessed and recognized how good God had been to her.  She also knew that how to show love to God is by showing His love towards others.  One way my grandmother did this was by helping out with some of our physical needs such as groceries, or the one time when she gave us a whole new set of towels.  And I know she did this for others too.  I told her how much I loved her and how much I would miss her.  And I told her I wasn't going to tell her goodbye, but that I would see her later, when I get to heaven.


During the planning of her funeral, my uncle told one particular story several times about Grandma.  Whenever he would talk with my grandmother about the classes he was teaching at church, she would always remind him to include the plan of salvation in every class.  He told this story several times during the days preeceding the funeral, as if he was bragging on her.  I think it brought him comfort knowing that God's plan for redemption, His amazing love for us, was so important to her. 


After her funeral we returned home, and the following night was Wednesday night church.  I am the children's teacher and I was somewhat at a loss of what to teach, I hadn't given it much thought and didn't really feel like teaching.  As I sat at the  kitchen table trying to prepare, my eyes came to rest on the folder they passed out at her funeral, and my uncles words came to mind.  I knew the only lesson I could possibly teach that night was on God's amazing love and salvation.  So I took the funeral folder to church with me that night and I showed the class her pictures, and I told them how great she was and how much I loved her, about how she passed away and how sad it made me.  And then I told them how I would get to see her again.  And I told them about God's love for us, and how Jesus died for us. 


My uncles words about grandma are still crystal clear in my mind and I have thought on them several times the past few weeks.  I am so glad he told that story, it's just another piece I have of her that I can treasure.  Just like those words in Timothy speak of the godly legacy his grandmother left, I have that same legacy for which I am so grateful.

Rest For This Weary Soul

A few weeks ago, October 7th at 10:40 a.m., my grandmother on my mother's side passed away.  I have never been that close to death before.  I have never seen someone die before, and I wouldn't count the fake performances on TV.  Early that morning sometime between 12 and 1 am the phone rang.  My husband has a cell phone which he uses for church business, so I knew when the house phone rang, it was family and something was wrong.  It was my dad who called to tell us my grandmother had a stroke, and they were moving her from one hospital to another.  About 30-40 minutes later he called and said they were going to perform a procedure to determine if surgery would be needed.  We live two and a half hours away, and Emily had a teddy bear tea party the next day for school, for which she had picked out her mommy and me teddy bear with a little photo pocket on the front to take with her to the tea party.  I thought I would take her to school the next day and then leave for Gainesville after school.  The next couple of hours I spent praying, in and out of sleep, and waiting to hear from my father.  He finally called me and said they had decided not to do the surgery becasue the damage done was unrepairable, in tears he told me we needed to come on up to tell her goodbye.  So at about 4 in the morning I got up began to dig through the pile of laundry on the couch trying to gather some clothes for the four of us to wear.  The drive up was a numbing one.   When I got there my dad tried to prepare me for what she looked like, I just wanted to get in to her.  I just sat by her bed and looked at her.  The woman I loved and respected as a grandma, who I had just spoken with a few days earlier, had been reduced to lying unconscious in a hospital bed.  It seemed so humiliating and unfair.  My dad warned me she would move her legs here and there, but she wasn't...there.  As I sat there, head in my arms, I cried, silently screaming out to God in anger, "Where is she?  If she's not here then where is she?!"  When I think about it I still shake my head in disbelief.  During her viewing and funeral I had a few people tell me how she was so proud of me.  Silently I thought, "How?"  I really wished they would elaborate.  But didn't dare to ask.  I was in pitiful shape.  As difficult as it was losing my gradnmother, that wasn't the end nor the beginning of the pain I was feeling. My husband is the pastor at our church and things had become very difficult at times, especially in my relationships with some of the members.  I had really been struggling in this particular area for almost a year.  I felt like a class A loser.  I felt like I didn't do the right things or say the right things, it had become almost second nature for me to walk away from even the smallest everyday conversations or situations questioning had I done the right thing or said the right thing. I knew my grandma was proud of me, and it was really nice to be reminded of that, but I didn't feel like someone to be proud of.  When we got home I had to go back to taking my kids to school, and teaching Wednesday night and Sunday morning children's class at church, things I didn't really feel like doing.  I barely got the grocery shopping done.  The first couple of weeks were difficult.  I had to leave my family, and come back home, and somehow carry on.  It was really hard.  I knew I needed something, so one day while Joseph took his morning nap, I lay on the bed and began searching through God's word.  I began a search under the word weary.  That is how I felt, I was weary in every way.  And God gave me these verses to lift me up, to hold me close, and give me hope.

Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.  He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.  Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.             Isaiah 40:28-31

I remember these verses often, because I need the reminder often.  I just remind myself that one day in God's time if I wait on the Lord, my strength will be renewed,  I will run and not be weary, I will walk and not faint.  I just remind myself, make it through today, it will get better.  And it will if I have hope, and God has given me that.  It makes me happy now when I think about how my grandma was proud of me and makes me want to be even better.