Not Yet (A Lesson in Patience) Part III
On Sunday, my best friend’s husband and I drove down to Montevalo, Alabama for her Granny’s funeral. I found myself eavesdropping on the conversations around me, which was mostly made up of distinguished-looking gentleman and ladies, talking about how much they admired this God- and people-loving woman. Their conversations were, at times, hushed and subdued and at others, loud and joyful. It was beautiful to hear so many stories about her life.
This one life, of Granny Mary Jean, was beautiful. She loved God, people, children (she was a science and Sunday school teacher), a wonderful mother, a creative grandmother (my best friend, Jeanie, was immensely encouraged by her to pursue music), a caring friend, and a faithful husband (whom she met it the 1st grade.)
While she will always live on in her memories, teachings, and love of God and others, she will also live on through her husband, whom I only know as “Papa.” Through her passing and my being present at the funeral, I began to think about my own death-when will it be? How old will I be? Who will attend? What will people say about me? Will I be missed?
I know that it is all in God’s timing, but as I stood in the cemetery, shivering in the cold, surrounded by strangers and friends alike, I thought about my life in a new way. I am but twenty-three, but death-as is life-is a natural part of it. I know that life cannot exist without the passing of people. I also know that life does not really end; our bodies may be finite, but our souls continue on infinitely. I know that one day, I will be glorifying God in heaven, but being in the presence of people around Granny’s age reminded me that I have a choice to glorify God in my current life, as well.
My attempt at learning patience, once again, has crept onto the stairs of my heart and if I listen hard enough, I can hear a soft knocking.
