A daughter of the King

I knew the day would come sooner rather than later… The day that I needed to write again.  I am embracing it yet it comes with many emotions. What is most difficult about today is, I write knowing there will be one set of eyes who will not be reading my blog this time around. One very important set of eyes. Eyes that have now seen their Maker. Knowing this makes my heart rejoice but at the same moment, it does not completely remedy the weeping of the eyes still here.

My precious Grandma Jean passed away Saturday, July 6. I don’t wish her back. She is with her Confidant; the One she knew had saved her, who brought her out of darkness and into His glorious light, not because of anything she had done, but only out of His love and grace. What a joy to see her embrace that!  

Even though I don’t wish her back, I do miss her. And I write with a desire to share and remember the beauty of her life and love for the Lord, but I write, knowing also, that my words will be many but my thoughts unclear and my product lacking from what I desire to express.

When she passed on, I was home for my sister-in-law and brother’s wedding. I had hoped it wouldn’t be my last time to visit Grandma, but it has made me all the more thankful for the opportunity to be there. The Lord is faithful in His provision over our lives, yet in the moment, the timing seemed overwhelmingly confusing when we received the call that she was gone just hours before Trent and Stacy’s wedding. However, looking back on it, it was okay. God seemed to be in the midst of it all; from gathering our family together to the rain showering down on us as they were united as husband and wife.

But as one union began, another passed away. My grandfather loved and journeyed alongside his beautiful bride for just shy of 70 years, and it already amazes me how he continues on so valiantly. It made my heart glad for the moments I could share with him, doing the things we always did; eating ice cream, making soft boiled eggs, cleaning the sweaters off my teeth with a washcloth, tucking my comforter snugly under my pillow, dipping lettuce in the green wash bowl, reading the Daily Bread. Just being there, with him, felt right. 

I know he will have many hard days ahead, but my prayer is that the Father will continue to reveal His love for him in new ways through this. Love never fails. And Grandma and Grandpa seemed to get that. Together, Grandma and Grandpa made life look beautiful. They truly are a living definition of the word “inspiration”. In fact, Grandma was the living definition of many words, but most clearly and definitely, she encapsulated how I define the word “grandma”.  It’s hard to think of her and that word separately. Of course, she wasn't perfect, but she truly was wonderful at who she was.

And as I pondered what her funeral might look like, I thought of how funerals somehow bring out the best in people. Sometimes you walk away thinking, "Wow, I never quite knew that almost saintly person they were talking about." But as I thought of my grandmother’s funeral, I knew there was very few ways to clearly portray her grace, humility, and love. She cared so deeply. She fought as a warrior in prayer yet loved so tenderly with her gentle spirit. There weren't favorites. She did a fabulous job drawing out and savoring something special in each of us; a very difficult thing that she did well, considering she had 11 grandchildren.    

It’s all still fresh in many ways, but sometimes, it hard to believe how much I already miss her. It hurts my heart to think I won’t go to the mailbox again to find an encouraging note or thoughtful recipe from her. It’s hard to imagine going back to Colorado without spending a few sweet hours with her.  In some ways, I want so badly to play one more game of Sorry, one more morning of “Emily’s grocery store” or “School house”, to have one more sleep over, to paint one more picture with her right by my side, to have her pray with me and assure me that resting is just as good as sleeping, to hear what God was teaching her trusting heart one more time around a cafeteria table.

 But the beauty of life also brings the beauty of death, and Grandma was a role model in both life and death. She lived well, but she also died well. She was ready to go. It seemed that she did not fear the unknowns of death. She knew Jesus was ready for her and she was ready for Jesus. And I don’t wish her back. I simply write today, in honor of such a beautiful lady and daughter of the King. To God be the glory.   

Photo courtesy of Gillespie Photography (Trent Gillespie)