Last Blog Post

I’m stepping away from the blog world for awhile. I want to share my stories in a book and share the many stories that have touched others close to me. Even if it takes years, I want to write them down in my own words, and I pray that God uses me to share a glimmers of Hope in a hurting heart. I also feel a strong pull to write about my daily struggles and joy as a wife and a mother. Not to say that I’ve had some grand epiphany for putting my thoughts into words, however, there is a spark of a thematic passion that is growing in my soul. I feel it grumbling and groaning and stirring. Plainly, I am terrified and excited!

God is pulling me into a deeper connection with him and steering me through strange territories of the heart. I can’t wait to share it with you once it all comes together.

For now, I will leave you with an un-ended story of that will be forever branded on my heart.


It has been 41 days since my Grandfather fell asleep into the arms of Jesus (I wrote this more than a month ago, but haven’t posted it.) Although I have tried many times, I have not mustered enough courage to put thoughts to pen and paper. I cry every time. As hard as it may be, I feel that this is a story to share - that it is not meant for me to just hold inside.

I don’t need to go into every detail of how amazing my grandpa was, because, he just was. Absolutely without a doubt, there were traces of all humanness in this man: he could be grumpy and questionable and cynical. But through his flesh, he had a heart that beat with the pulse of the life around him. He had the ability to see God in each and everything his senses could grasp. He felt the wind on his skin and knew it was God brushing by him. He smelled the lilacs in the spring and knew it was the sweet scent of heaven. As he held a newborn baby, he saw God’s face reflected on hers.

He lived a full, and for the most part, healthy life. I can’t sum up his life in a measly paragraph, but the outstanding things that carry on will be his deep love for his wife, my grandmother for so many, many years. He also took joy in his children’s accomplishments and success, and he expressed overflowing delight in his grandchildren and 7 great grand children.

However, with a life so full and wonderful, at the end he suffered. Of course, medicinal interventions were taken to ease his pain, but still, he suffered. He was a strong man made weak by a ravaging cancer. Sometimes, I could see the pain, frustration, and unrelenting anxiety sweep over his soft yet twisted face. That hurt deeper than anything I have ever experienced. The pain an suffering was truly unbearable. I understand that my grandpa and my family are not the only ones who have walked along this road of hurt. But death, at times, is so unspeakable; I was unprepared for what was to come. I didn’t understand the process of death and grief nor do I still.

My story doesn’t end with dying. It begins and ends with life, hope, and peace. In the last days of his life and through my grandpa’s final breath, I experienced God in a way that I never expected. Through the pain, sorrow, and sometimes anger, there was always immeasurable hope. And the hope was always there even when it wore a disguise.

In those last two weeks, my grandpa shared stories of the beauty in life. He mostly talked about Jesus. He talked about his love for his children, his grand children, and his great grandchildren. We sang our silly songs together, we drank Wendy’s Chocolate Frosties, and we shared probably 2 dozen York Peppermint Patties. He never once talked about himself (although, I tried to get him to!) He wanted to be sure we were all healthy, taken good care of, and “they all better be nice to you, or they’ll have to take it up with your Grandpa.”

As he became weaker, the moments became harder yet, so much sweeter. We could sit in the silence and just hold hands. His hands were so nice and warm. He would stop shaking when we held hands, and he would get tears in his eyes. So would I.

During these weeks, my entire family had there very own special time with my grandpa. My parents, my Aunt, my Cousins, my Brother, and so many other family and friends were able to say good-bye, express love and tenderness, grieve, and experience the hope that my Grandpa had in the life beyond this one.

On the Friday before he passed away, I went to visit with him and my grandma shortly after dinner time. My grandpa could no longer speak. Again, we held hands, and I talked, but then, just cried. I told him that I was was proud of the legacy he was leaving our family, and I told him how much he is loved. I apologized for crying, and he squeezed my hand tighter as if to tell me it was perfectly okay. I leaned over to kiss his warm check goodbye for the night, and he said to me “Stay.” That was the final word he spoke to me. And I stay I did, until he fell asleep.

The next evening, as I entered his room, I felt a strange peace. I knew he would be with Jesus soon, and I felt almost troubled that I was not sad at this moment. I sang hymns with my grandpa, and I knew he was singing with me in his heart. “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound....I once was blind but now I see.” There’s a profound significance in that song that is too grand for such small words...hope.

On Sunday afternoon, February 1, 2009, his body was giving up to the fight between life and death. He soul was being called home, and not so ironically, on my Grandpa’s Sabbath. This was his day of rest. My Dad, my Mom, my Aunt and I were there with my Grandparents....we talked, waited, watched, and were most of the time without words. My Mom has gone through this before, and being very wise, she suggested that someone read aloud from the Psalms. He own father and her best friend found deep comfort in the words of the Lord. My Dad asked me if I would do it. Unbeknown how hard it would be to get the words out, I said yes. I held his warm, still hand in mine as I began reading at Psalm 18. “I will love thee, O LORD, my strength. The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid. The sorrows of hell compassed me about: the snares of death prevented me. In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears. ...”

I could feel the reverence and holiness in that room. God was there with us. With stories of grief, exasperation, desperation, humility, deliverance, the Power of God, the words were hard to read, but these were God’s very own. As I reached the 4th verse of the 23rd Psalm, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,” my Grandpa’s hand let go of mine and he took his very last breath. As long as I live, I will never forget this moment. God was there, and He still is here even in our sorrow and pain. The hope he brings finds a home in our hearts at the strangest and most unbelievably needed moments.

Lamentations 3:1-66

1 [a]I am one who has seen affliction
by the rod of the LORD's wrath.

2 He has driven me away and made me walk
in darkness rather than light;

3 indeed, he has turned his hand against me
again and again, all day long.

4 He has made my skin and my flesh grow old
and has broken my bones.

5 He has besieged me and surrounded me
with bitterness and hardship.

6 He has made me dwell in darkness
like those long dead.

7 He has walled me in so I cannot escape;
he has weighed me down with chains.

8 Even when I call out or cry for help,
he shuts out my prayer.

9 He has barred my way with blocks of stone;
he has made my paths crooked.

10 Like a bear lying in wait,
like a lion in hiding,

11 he dragged me from the path and mangled me
and left me without help.

12 He drew his bow
and made me the target for his arrows.

13 He pierced my heart
with arrows from his quiver.

14 I became the laughingstock of all my people;
they mock me in song all day long.

15 He has filled me with bitter herbs
and sated me with gall.

16 He has broken my teeth with gravel;
he has trampled me in the dust.

17 I have been deprived of peace;
I have forgotten what prosperity is.

18 So I say, "My splendor is gone
and all that I had hoped from the LORD."

19 I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.

20 I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.

21 Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;

26 it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

27 It is good for people to bear the yoke
while they are young.

28 Let them sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on them.

29 Let them bury their faces in the dust—
there may yet be hope.

30 Let them offer their cheeks to one who would strike them,
and let them be filled with disgrace.

31 For people are not cast off
by the Lord forever.

32 Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.

33 For he does not willingly bring affliction
or grief to any human being.

34 To crush underfoot
all prisoners in the land,

35 to deny people their rights
before the Most High,

36 to deprive them of justice—
would not the Lord see such things?

37 Who can speak and have it happen
if the Lord has not decreed it?

38 Is it not from the mouth of the Most High
that both calamities and good things come?

39 Why should the living complain
when punished for their sins?

40 Let us examine our ways and test them,
and let us return to the LORD.

41 Let us lift up our hearts and our hands
to God in heaven, and say:

42 "We have sinned and rebelled
and you have not forgiven.

43 "You have covered yourself with anger and pursued us;
you have slain without pity.

44 You have covered yourself with a cloud
so that no prayer can get through.

45 You have made us scum and refuse
among the nations.

46 "All our enemies have opened their mouths
wide against us.

47 We have suffered terror and pitfalls,
ruin and destruction."

48 Streams of tears flow from my eyes
because my people are destroyed.

49 My eyes will flow unceasingly,
without relief,

50 until the LORD looks down
from heaven and sees.

51 What I see brings grief to my soul
because of all the women of my city.

52 Those who were my enemies without cause
hunted me like a bird.

53 They tried to end my life in a pit
and threw stones at me;

54 the waters closed over my head,
and I thought I was about to perish.

55 I called on your name, LORD,
from the depths of the pit.

56 You heard my plea: "Do not close your ears
to my cry for relief."

57 You came near when I called you,
and you said, "Do not fear."

58 You, Lord, took up my case;
you redeemed my life.

59 LORD, you have seen the wrong done to me.
Uphold my cause!

60 You have seen the depth of their vengeance,
all their plots against me.

61 LORD, you have heard their insults,
all their plots against me—

62 what my enemies whisper and mutter
against me all day long.

63 Look at them! Sitting or standing,
they mock me in their songs.

64 Pay them back what they deserve, LORD,
for what their hands have done.

65 Put a veil over their hearts,
and may your curse be on them!

66 Pursue them in anger and destroy them

from under the heavens of the LORD.