This past week my grandmother left her weak and physically burdened body behind and went to be with the Lord; wholly healed and in perfect peace. The morning I found out that she had passed, I woke up in the Dominican Republic, on a rainy day, feeling “off” or at least that’s the only word I can use to describe where my head-space was at. I felt like I was in a fog; detached from my surroundings. I now believe this was God nudging my spirit and preparing my heart for the news I was about to receive. My sweet, loving and generous grandmother who spoiled me beyond belief all of my life, who took care of me every day after school and everyday over the summer, and who was the most consistent example in my life of what it looked like to live devoted to God, took her last breath shortly before midnight on August 12, 2018. She had suffered 5+ strokes this year alone and the remnants of those and other comorbidities took its toll on her well-being and although she fought hard through it all, her body just couldn’t fight back anymore.
Leaving for the race, I knew her passing while I was gone was a strong possibility. The last day we spent together before I left was actually the last “good” day she had. We spent the morning at the church she belonged to for over 40 years and then we spent the afternoon and evening surrounded by family, good food and goodbyes. Saying goodbye to her that evening, I had a peace in my heart about that being the last time I would be in the physical presence of my grandmother here on earth. We were in her living room chatting about random stuff, and then she brought up one of my favorite memories of her and I. Every day after school when I got off the bus and went in her house, she would be in “her chair.” I’d grab chocolate milk from the fridge and then come and sit on her lap. She would cradle me and bounce me up and down with her knees as she would sing the song “Do you know the muffin man?” and I would giggle and smile throughout the entire song and ask her to sing it again and again until her legs got tired. I had no idea this was as memorable to her as it was to me, but I’m so glad it was.
Right before I left that evening, I crouched down to her, while she sat in her chair, held on tight to her as we wept and exchanged mementos of hope and encouragement. “You’ll be in good hands.” I said as I glanced over at her exceptional and devoted caregiver, Nina. “You will be too,” she said, “you’ll be in the best hands, the Lord’s hands.”
Guys, I cannot tell you how much peace these words gave me. As I mentioned before, my grandmother was constantly reminding me how important faith in God was. It was with her sitting next to me in the fourth pew of the center section of New Hope Baptist Church where I first heard about Jesus, his miracles, his power, his salvation, and his love. It was with her that the seed of my faith was planted. And although it took a while for that seed to bear fruit in my life like it is today with me on the World Race, living as a missionary for 11 months, I’m so thankful I had a grandmother that sought the Lord so fervently and God used that to spark my faith in Him. You could say she is the reason, other than Jesus himself that I find myself passionate about a relationship with our Father in heaven and passionate about spreading his good news to the nations.
I’ll miss my grandmother dearly. I’ll miss her sassiness, her comforting presence, her generous heart, and her careful guidance. I’ll miss making her proud with my accomplishments or hearing her tell me how much she loved me. I’ll miss helping her in and out of the car, fixing her plate for dinner, cleaning her house, decorating her Christmas tree, having her scratch my back, opening presents from her ordered from QVC and laying my head on her lap on road trips. But because of her own faith and now mine that was a result from hers, I have full confidence that her soul is in heaven with her creator.
Therefore, I choose joy over grief, I choose hope over despair, and I choose peace over restlessness. Death’s sting is temporary but life with Christ is eternal and that is the reason I will celebrate and give God all the praise in the midst my mourning. He is a good, good father, who loves us and wants to spend eternity with us. I know I’ll see my “Grammy” in heaven when I join her someday and from that day on for eternity she’ll have the strength to cradle me on her lap, bounce me up and down, and sing a song about a man that delivers muffins.
If you don’t have the same confidence of where you’ll go after you take your last breath or if you are unsure what it looks like to have a relationship with Jesus, please reach out to me. I’d love to chat with you and pray for you to know the perfect love, the supernatural peace, and the merciful redemption the Lord offers to everyone who is willing to receive it.
