Indestructible

Dying is hard to do. I thought it usually just happened suddenly, so suddenly that no one got to say goodbye. In my first real experience with death, however, it took so long that by the time death came, I was ready. I got to spend two precious, unforgettably beautiful and difficult days in a hospital this week, holding my grandpa's hand as he battled against life. He was the strongest man I have ever known, in body and in spirit. He worked on tractors and trucks for so many years that his hands felt stronger than any wrench, and smelled like old engines. He was built like a tank, despite his lack of height. He had a heart so big, his home held four children, countless foster children, and many more who just needed a place to rest and recover from whatever the world had dealt them. His generosity knew no borders; he and his family lived simply and the rest of their income went to missionary families and their work, spanning the globe. He loved deeply, marrying his high school sweetheart and keeping her smiling until the day he left this earth. His voice was resounding; as a pastor he loved to lead worship from the pulpit, and I can still hear his booming voice singing "Victory in Jesus" and "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." When it came time to let go of breath, his body would not give up. It frustrated him to have a heart that just kept on pumping; a set of lungs that just kept on breathing. He denied food, drink, or pain medication, and still managed to sing "Love Lifted Me" and "I'll Fly Away" through the pain, believing it was only a matter of hours before he'd be singing those same songs from a different perspective. When I joked with him, he grinned and winked at me; when I cried he said "Rejoice!" and later, when his eyes opened wide and he pleaded with me to let him go, I stroked his forehead and whispered in his ear that God was still getting his room ready, but it would be soon, and he smiled again. I held his hand and looked into his face for two whole days, and what I saw there was not fear. There was peace, trust, beauty, patience, and courage. He was looking forward to heaven, to seeing Jesus, knowing that all the pain was only a second birth into the eternal life he had been promised in God's Word. Being in that room with him was strikingly like being at a birth: so much pain, hands grasping other hands tight, the knowledge that things would get worse before they got better, but so much joy would be waiting on the other side. It was an incredible honor to hold my grandpa's hand, to sing with him, to kiss his cheek, to slowly and patiently wait out those last minutes of time with him. Unforgettable, heartbreaking, beautiful, life-changing. May I live with just a little of that indestructible faith that he displayed all his life. "Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him." 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14. "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near." Philippians 4:4-5