I started this blog over a week ago and I wanted to talk about how faithful and good God is. I wanted to tell you that by the hand of God and the completely amazing and loving people He has placed in my life I am just 10% away from being fully funded. I wanted to crack jokes and tell you that if I ever got a tattoo, it would be a contract on my inner arm, a written contract with God;
Dear God,
I promise to NEVER doubt you again.
You are HUGE.
You are GOOD.
X___Rebecca Rose Coleman___
I wanted to spend my birthday writing a big thank you blog to all of the people that have poured out love and encouragement over me in this season. I have been blown away and I still intend to give honor where honor is due. But in the middle of this blog I got a phone call.
“Granddad has 2 days to live…”
“Wait, what????” Ears ringing, tunnel vision, shortness of breath…. Jesus, you still here?
That was a week ago, and though my tears are still fresh, and my family is still mourning, I can tangibly see how the Lord makes all things beautiful.
The day before I got this phone call I was sitting on the runway at the Atlanta airport. Our plane was grounded for weather issues and we weren’t supposed to have cell phones on but I said, “Screw this, if I have to sit here in this heat I am going to at least use it surfing Facebook.” What a rebel I am.
I turned my phone on and had a new message from my sister, “Boo, check this out.” Attached was a picture of a check and a card from my Grandmolly and Granddad that had just arrived in the mail after I left. The check was for a large amount that I almost had to just out of my seat and press the call button to ask permission to unbuckle my seatbelt and use the tiny airplane bathroom. But it was the card that really touched my heart and made me cry. “We are happy to support you… We will be praying for you… We are proud of you…” These words may seem simplistic to you, but to a girl that yearns to be loved and accepted and encouraged by her family, they were springs of cool water.
Now I sit on a patio overlooking the beaches of southern New Jersey, my mind surveying the events of the past week. My Granddad is now with Jesus but past the sliding glass door behind me, there are four generations of Coleman’s cooking together, telling stories and shedding occasional tears. It is my Granddad’s favorite time of day, sunset. The sun speaks peace over the closure of another day and finger-like bursts of color fill the heavens like a father or grandfather’s hand protectively covering something it loves. And I see the hand of the Father. Big enough to cover all of Creation, yet tender enough that mine fits perfectly inside.
Thank you Father that your love is perfect. Thank you that you see me in my joy and pain. Thank you for the sweet gift of knowing that my Granddaddy loves and is proud of me before you brought him home with you. Thank you that your faithfulness has, and will never fail me and that you promise to work all things out for my good because you love me. And thank you that in my weakness you are strong and that you made my hand to perfectly fit inside of yours. Help me to never let go of it. I love you.
