A new blog. A new title. A new perspective.
Writing has been an outlet of mine for much of my life. I was blessed to have teachers who gave me a hunger and love for the art of writing ... for the written word that lies deep within my soul. Nina Bolden (6th grade), Angie Griffin (7th grade), Suzi Land (8th grade), and Cindy Pierce (college) taught their classes as laid out in their plans, and I held on tightly! (Side note: they taught me way more than the mechanics of grammar! They loved me through some dark days and were instruments of God's amazing grace in my life!) I took a break from writing last year because the last 12-18 months have been characterized by various forms of death. After my church went through a heartbreaking split, many relationships that I deeply cherished died. Firsthand, I saw people just walk away and give up. There was no hint of a desire to reconcile. The grief was gut wrenching, only to be told by some to just "get over it." As the LORD gently came alongside us, He showed Himself faithful, mighty, and compassionate. It's as if He bent down and graced us with a heavenly kiss. Indeed, there is always a resurrection after death ... Today, we are small in number, but we are stronger than ever. For that, the praise belongs to our God alone. Not long after the church split, my grandmother began having some serious medical issues. My soul hurt because I knew that this was just bad ... I prayed for an absolute miracle. My Grannaw and I had theological differences, but we had an indestructible bond. After she was transferred to a nursing facility for rehab, I took every possible chance I could to see her. We talked about music and the songs I was trying to learn to play on the piano. She listened to recordings of my playing (& even critiqued them). Grannaw looked at new art samples that were done for an art fair....and was just at peace. Her body and mind were failing, but she loved the faith based music and art. Following a stroke a few weeks later, the decision for Grannaw to go home with hospice was made. My heart sank! Reality was grim. My beloved Grannaw was dying. As circumstances unfolded, I was blessed beyond measure to be a part of her night time sitter rotation. The simplest tasks became ministry opportunities. Feeding, assisting with getting a drink of water, putting simple Christmas decorations up, applying chapstick and lotion ... it was a privilege to serve her! I shed more tears than I could possibly count after I'd leave her, every time. By her bed late that Friday night, I knew she was seeing the glories of heaven as she reached up and said plainly, "Take my hand. Oh, that's pretty." At that moment, my soul could rest because I knew that she'd really be okay. Saturday morning, after I helped feed her some breakfast, I kissed her & told her that I'd see her Sunday night. She said, "That's good." I told her that I loved her & she said: "I love you" ... and life changed that very night ... The morphine was started. For Christmas, I was with my Grannaw. She slept. We were on what I termed "death watch" ... Two days after Christmas, we were there ... waiting, praying, grieving ... Not long after I left that evening, my Grannaw was in the presence of Jesus. With every death, there is a resurrection. Grannaw is whole. Dementia and disease no longer have a hold of my grandmother. Why? Scripture tells us that Jesus defeated death when He rose on the third day. For those who are TRULY His, physical death is just the means by which we enter His glorious presence. There is no second (or ultimate) death - which is Hell ... a place by which those aren't His enter into His utter ETERNAL wrath. A few months after Grannaw died, another family member, Martha Rose (my second cousin), was ushered into the presence of God after a brief, but hard, battle with cancer. Folks around the world prayed for a miracle, but God chose a different path ... and we trusted (& still trust) His heart although we couldn't see His hand all the time. Life has changed ... losing - what I thought were - priceless relationships to losing our family matriarch to watching God say 'NO' to a prayer for healing ... I've found myself despondent, despairing, and doubting the goodness of God (at times). As John Bunyan's classic, Pilgrim's Progress, points out, this journey isn't easy, but it's worth it as we press on towards the Celestial City. The LORD sends the help we need WHEN we need it. He corrects our course when we stray. Just as Pilgrim found relief from his burden at the cross, so too can we ... IF we will journey to Calvary. A new perspective, indeed ... for the praise and glory of God alone!
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