Only the Beginning of the Real Story

To my dearest Jean, or 'Grandma' as I liked to call you --

I can just picture you now, dancing and rejoicing at our Savior's feet. And I have to admit, I'm slightly jealous! What an unspeakably wonderful and amazing Christmas gift you have been given! If only we all could be so blessed one day.

Four years and three months was too short a time to only have had with you here on this earth, but it is time I will treasure always. I can't recall how many times you lifted my spirits at work with a smile, a hug, and a prayer for your 'grand-daughter'. There was the bug man, the klutz club and comparing bruises, dancing the Grecian-urn dance with Jan for you, your sneezes, flipping the light switch off on you, embarrassing emails, phone calls from cute-sounding guys, chocolate pie recipes, swing dancing at Jenna's wedding, the hot chocolate that I always 'borrowed' from your office, and sound effects galore.

You loved people, and you loved on me. You cared for everyone who came across your path. There was no question about it - if they needed help, you were more than willing to jump in and help to the fullest that you could. You loved meeting new people and experiencing new things and you loved to talk about the Lord and how much you loved Him and how He was 'all the world to me.' You encouraged me in my walk with God, to love Him with all that I am, to always remember that God is my portion and that to rest in the Lord is the safest place to be, and to wait patiently for His answers. For these, and for many other things, thank you. Thank you, too, for the timely reminder to never take a person for granted, but to always tell them that you love and appreciate them when you have the opportunity, for it might not be granted to you a second time.

You had the voice of an angel (especially when helping lead us on Tuesday mornings in our times of singing!) and loved to sing and share that gift of music with so many others. Your performance last week in the Christmas cantata was beyond breath-taking. You also loved your family, and I would just love hearing you brag on all that Tori, Matt and Kristi were doing; you would be giddy at the thought that Herb was on the other phone line, just wanting to talk to you! I think of all these memories and so many others and laugh and smile because they were all so very wonderful times. I am glad my last memories of your are good ones - seeing you smile over a silly candle and chocolate, and wishing you a 'Merry Christmas' and giving you random hugs and love.

And while I am happy for you, please understand that I have been left sadden, as have many others. It will be hard. Walking by your office on Wednesday to not see you there, but instead to help set up your home-going party, will probably be one of the very hardest things I will have to do in my time working at the church thus far. But regardless, it is good to know where you are and that I will see you again, one day.

God gave me a verse yesterday, shortly before I heard about what happened, and God saw fit to bring it back to mind yet again today. "He is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:25-28)." When I heard it yesterday, it seemed like a perfect verse for this time of year. Christ Himself, one Man, coming to give all men life, making us all one, and doing this so that men would reach out to Him. Today, it has a new meaning now in addition to the one I took it for yesterday - your place was determined and your time was set. You fought your fight, ran your race, and kept your faith well.

Got also gave me Job. Yes, I know a not-so-very nice book to be reading when already sad, but Job's attitude towards what happened to him is what has been giving me peace these last two days, and the promise that I will be what I cling to these next few weeks. "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD (Job 1:21)." The more I thought of it, the more I wondered if the sadness I feel at your leaving might not have been felt by God Himself when He sent His Son to the earth, knowing full well the pain that would have to be inflicted on Him, and knowing that He would one day have to turn His ear to Jesus' cry when He was dying on the cross. It is a comfort to think that even our Lord was sad, and cried over the loss of loved ones.

At this time of year, a lot of the focus turns to giving to others, and more importantly, of giving back to God. I think your grand-daughter said it best when, of all the gifts to give back to God, you are one of the best we could give. I know I can go and celebrate the birth of our Lord with joy tomorrow because you wouldn't want me to be sad at the gift that has been given through you and your life.

I fully expect to see you when I get there, just waiting for me there with those of my loved ones who have gone before as well as many others, and I'll be wanting the grand tour of Heaven. And then maybe a good cup of tea together so we can catch up.

I love you so very much, and I will see you later (I refuse to say 'good-bye,' even now, for with followers of Christ, there are no good-byes).

Love,
Your adopted grand-daughter