In Memory of My Grandpa: A Year Later

This past Sunday we had a guest teacher in our Sunday school class. He was passionate. His passion showed in his face, his body movements, his words, and his prayers. As I sat there listening to him, I smiled and realized I felt like I knew him because he was so much like my grandpa. I imagine my grandpa preached in much the same way when he was the age of our teacher. 

Last August my grandpa passed away. I still find it hard to believe that my grandpa is no longer on this earth. You know, I've never before known a world without my grandpa. 

I'd like to revisit my memories of this great man. (He is on the left in each picture below.)

The following is what I shared at his funeral:

At church, we’ve been focusing on the subject of “out living your life.” We came to the conclusion that in order to outlive your life, you must have an eternal focus. Grandpa had this eternal focus. At the hospital, when his hands were swollen and looked painful, I asked him if his hands hurt. He said, “no.” I said, “Pa, I don’t remember you ever complaining about anything.” His response was, “I try to live to please my Heavenly Father.” As I drove home on Sunday after Grandpa left us to go to heaven, I realized that not only did Grandpa have an eternal focus (in that he was content, knowing that he brought nothing into the world, and he could take nothing out of it. -1 Timothy 6:6-7), but He had also outlived his life. I’m positive he outlived his life in ways I’ll never know. But there is one way that I’m sure of—and it is his effect on my life.

Throughout the years when I’ve told people how blessed I’ve been; how God has given me more grace and opportunities than I could ever have imagined, I’ve often gotten the response, “How did you turn out this way?” (I think what they meant was that I’ve beat odds or statistics that might have dictated how my life should have gone.) My response to this was always a shrug to say, “I don’t know why I’ve been blessed.”  However, when I was talking to grandpa last week at the hospital, I had a suspicion I knew why the goodness of God had been revealed to me.

Grandpa was telling me that he loved me, that I was special to him, and that he had always wanted me to feel wanted.  He said, “I didn’t want any little girl going around not feeling wanted.” I realized then, Grandpa had been praying for me all of these years.  His prayers had paved the way for my hope and joy in Christ. I shared this realization with Grandpa that night in the hospital. He smiled and simply said, “Thank you.” I assume he was thanking me for sharing with him that his prayers had been answered.

So you see, through Grandpa’s life, his passion to please his heavenly Father, and his consistent prayers, his legacy goes on. He has outlived his life. If he had all of you as a captive audience today, I feel confident in what he would have shared with you. It’s the topic that nearly all of his conversations led to. It’s a topic he shared with me just last week in his jovial grandpa-Santa Claus way.

He said, “I want to see you in heaven. When you get there I want to say “Yoo hoo, over here!”

So I’ll say to you what Grandpa said to me, I want to see you in heaven.  A passion like Grandpa’s doesn’t stem from a dead faith. It stems from one that is so alive and real that it must be shared—thus the long conversations that Pa was prone to creating. Grandpa talked of God, because he took delight in God.   I’m so glad he did because today I can rejoice instead of mourn.

Grandpa was doing what we naturally do when we find something that is lovely, exciting, or beautiful. We tell others about it. We say, “you should have seen her the day she was born; she was precious!” “Hawaii was beautiful. I wish you could have been there!” “My daughter said the funniest thing…” Grandpa talked of God because he took delight in Him.  As C.S. Lewis said, “…all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise…”

To those here who do not have faith in the God that Grandpa sought to honor—I pray that your hearts would be softened to the reality of Christ. That your eyes would be opened to realize we as people are far from holy, and that the only way we can have access to the Holy God is through the redemption of Christ. Think of redemption like this: in the same way that you redeem a coupon or gift card, Christ redeemed us with himself. He purchased us because we are unable to pay the price for ourselves. The acceptance of this redemption causes us to be holy in the sight of God—for we are covered by the grace of the holy Christ.  This holiness allows us to have a relationship with God, and to take hope that our eternal life will be with Him. Knowing Grandpa, I hope you can now see that his life was not lived in vain. That the God he lived for is real.

To those who know the grace of God that has been extended to us, I’d like to pass on some of Pa’s wisdom.

-He said to me, get yourself a large print King James Bible and read it daily. I hope to not disappoint Pa, but I use a small print NIV Bible. The point however, is to be reading the word of God daily. It is alive and powerful. It directs, corrects, brings joy, and reveals to us the truth of God. I read once, “If the feast of worship is rare in the land, it is because there is famine of the Word of God.” Parents are prone to say, “Do as I say; not as I do.” I’d say to us (myself included), let’s do as Pa did in his last years. Be in the Word.

 -Another piece of Grandpa’s advice was to pray before making decisions. He told me, “Don’t buy a car before first praying about it. Don’t make any decision with out the Holy Spirit’s leading.” I shared with Pa my story of almost buying a car a few years ago. It was the night before I was supposed to go complete the transaction and I had absolutely no peace about it. After praying about it, I called my friend in the middle of the night and said we wouldn’t have to go get the car the next day. I wasn’t going to buy it. In contrast, I prayed about my current car before buying it and had full peace about it. When I told Pa this, he said, “That makes me proud.”

-The last bit of Pa’s wisdom that I’d like to share with everyone is this: Make time to play. Grandpa never said this to me, but he certainly demonstrated it. Even until his last weeks, he picked on the nurses--even trying to get me to ask the male nurse if he was going to be a doctor someday. While at the hospital Grandpa reminded me of the times when I was younger and he would put a dishtowel on his head, and crawl around the house after me, roaring like a friendly monster, occasionally raising his hands. He said I’d run to my granny screaming, “Save me!” Thinking of it now, I can remember the grin on his face!

To Granny, congratulations on loving the same man for 63 years. You did well—or as Grandpa used to say, “mighty fine”. We all owe you a high-five on the way out of here today. Granny, you may already know this, but it’s good enough to warrant a reminder. About 6 years ago, Grandpa was telling me about when y’all were first married. He said he was so afraid that God was going to punish him for loving you too much. That’s a great kind of love—and you were part of it. Please be sure to look back on it as a blessing.  I know this is a tough time for you. But I plead with you to seek God. He said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” And know, you are loved. 

For Grandpa’s children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, siblings, neices, and all along the family tree, I pray that you would live a life worthy of following in his footsteps. You’d better be there in heaven so he can say, “What sweet child is it? Woo-hoo, over here!”

Given that Grandpa’s last seconds on earth consisted of him raising his arms up to the heavens, I want to leave you with this:

You are peace You are peace

When my fear is crippling

You are true You are true

Even in my wandering

You are joy You are joy

You’re the reason that I sing

You are life You are life

In You death has lost it’s sting

Oh I’m running to Your arms

I’m running to Your arms

The riches of Your love

Will always be enough

Nothing compares to Your embrace

Light of the world forever reign