Last week in the midst of my grandfather's last days on this earth, someone tried to tell me that life sucks. Half-smiling because I didn't know what else to do, I turned, looked at my grandfather and believed with everything in me that life most certainly does not suck. I could so fervently proclaim that very truth, if only to myself, because in that moment, although my grandfather was dying (which, yes really sucked) he also served as an undeniable reminder that life as a whole most certainly does not suck at all. Why? Well, if you knew my grandfather you knew that his whole life was marked by indescribable joy and love. It radiated through everything that he did, each word that he said, and every story that he told to anyone who would listen. He told stories of his life as a businessman that were marked with integrity and respect for every person he worked alongside. His stories of his work with x-ray tubing in the hospital were tainted with tender care and affection for the patients that his work served. His child-like wonder for learning and discovering emanated from the meticulously drawn and labeled cell diagrams and x-ray art he would display for those willing to learn with him. He shared stories about so many things. Stories from a life lived remarkably well. Yet, the heart of his stories were not about the war, or work travels, or the hospital or x-ray machines. At the heart of his stories, were people. You see, his stories came alive not when he talked of closing a sale as a salesman but when he told of the person that sale affected. You could hear in his voice and see on his face that his favorite part of that job was building relationships with people. The kind that last. The kind that make people feel like they matter.
When he told stories of the hospital you did not remember what went wrong with the x-ray machine. You remembered the joy that illuminated his face when he talked of how he spent time with patients showing them his x-ray art and brightening up their otherwise dismal day. It's the same joy and love that you can literally see change the very dispositions of his sons, of his grandchildren, of the people that he was like a second father to, from ones of sorrow to ones marked by the remembrance of joy that cannot be denied. The kind of joy that does not leave you, no matter what you may face in this life. I fight back tears as I sit here writing this because yes, of course I miss him. He is no longer living on this earth and yes, that sucks. For me. For my family. For his friends. And it sucks that the house that challenged our hide-and-go-seek skills for lack of easy hiding places, the house where we hunted for plastic eggs every Easter, the house where we were amused by my grandmother's quest to keep the squirrels off of the bird feeder by smearing the pole with peanut butter, the house where we raced down the carpeted stairs butt first slamming into the door at the bottom to somehow come out miraculously unscathed ready to go again, the house where M&M's flowed in abundance, and the house where we were cared for with no questions asked is now going to belong to strangers. However, that does not mean that life sucks. Life is marked with love and joy if we care enough to get over ourselves and see beyond our shrink-wrapped understanding of our existence. I know this because I believe that that particular kind of love and joy - selfless, compassionate, unwavering, boundless - can come from none other than our Jesus but I also know this because the life my grandfather lived was so outside of himself and completely devoted to others. You don't live a life like that if you don't believe in love that cannot be taken away and joy that deserves to be shared. He was the very image of a servant-leader. The very image of a most loving father and the most complete definition of a man after the very heart of God himself. My grandfather's life did not suck. Neither do ours. I know this because there are people, both living and not, like my grandfather. People who's lives have proved the statement, "Well, that's just life. It sucks." completely invalid. We are loved. How could life suck if someone could decide that the value and dignity of others is so important that they would choose to live their whole lives serving everyone but themselves? I wasn't going to go to church today because for the first time in a week I was angry at God for taking my grandfather. How could God just decide that someone who so deeply marked the lives of so many be done with his work on this earth? At first I was okay with the fact that his death was imminent. He would finally get to go be with Jesus. It's joy marked with sorrow but it's the joy of Jesus nonetheless. He was so close to the best hope that we hold onto in his life. The hope of living a life well-lived ending with spending eternity with the person who is the very purpose for our lives on earth in the first place. This is the best hope we can have. It is the hope that is supposed to help us run this race of life with endurance without growing faint or weary. But today, I was angry. I wasn't going to go to church and then I thought of trying a different church but something told me to instead, stick with what I know. Something told me that I would find comfort there. I tried to shake it but I couldn't. So, into church I walked, whispering prayers - more like pleas - for peace and wisdom. That "something" was no coincidence. God was moving - that cannot be denied. Because someone please explain to me how the day after burying my grandfather I could go from angry at God - the same kind of anger that caused me to walk completely away from my faith after my grandmother died - to without even giving a second thought to raising my hands to the lyrics, "You are the only King forever, Almighty God we lift You higher." Someone please try to tell me how it was anything but the Holy Spirit that prompted me to go to that particular service this morning so that I could sing the words, "Oh death where is your sting, our resurrected King, has rendered you defeated." Words that comforted me to the point of tears but became an anthem when the verse came around a second time. So, no. Life does not suck. We have a Savior who conquered death itself. I don't know how people can cope with death without believing that Jesus triumphed over it. Because in Him we have nothing to fear, and everything to rejoice over. All praise be forever to the One who gives and takes.
2 Comments
William Frazee
5/18/2015 12:11:44 pm
Very nicely written Kelly.
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Michele Frazee
5/29/2015 03:04:00 am
Very moving. Your grandfather was the kind a person who loved unconditionally. He was a true "gentle man." We will all miss him terribly but we all have such sweet memories of him to hold on to!
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Author4th grade teacher. Writer. Justice-seeker. Encourager. CrossFitter. John 11:40. Archives
July 2017
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