For the last two days, I've quietly watched my grandma transition from a warrior to a wanderer. Her frail statue, refusal to eat/drink, and extreme exhaustion gives physical cues of her internal state. I felt the inevitable presence of the death angel nearby once again. My conflicted heart is torn between grief and relief, so the inability to articulate in words comes by way of our love language, placing her hands inside my hands, back massages, and feet rubs. My heart doesn't want her to suffer, but my hands refuse to let go.
As I stare at her frame, I sense her spiritual-being has already ascended. There is some obvious peace present but awkward unrest as well. Convincing my head of what my heart knows to be true proves to be a continuous power struggle. My fleshly apprehension finds solace by comfort food--bottomless carbs. My blood sugar has spiked to alarming levels, but "mourning" takes precedent right now. (No matter how far you are on your spiritual journey, humanistic grief proceeds the celebration that follows).
As I sit frantically searching my indecisive heart for answers, my spirit silently weeps.
However, my tears rest on the reassurance of knowing that she has lived an abundant life, evident of God's favor, grace and mercy.
She has preached her "sermon" throughout the span of her life by loving actions, kind words, and generous deeds.
She has unselfishly served with a humble, meek and gentle heart.
She has lead by example for family, friends, and foes.
She has definitely built her house upon his rock.
"Then I heard a voice from heaven say, "Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on," "Yes," says the Spirit, "they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them." Revelation 14:13
Are you living a life poured out in service for others or barely existing?
Does your outward countenance testify to the living God on the inside?
Does your faith triumph over sorrow, grief, and loss?
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