What a Week

What a week. One week ago today we were so focused on Good Friday and preparing to celebrate Easter Sunday. It was a an incredible time of worship and reflection on what the empty tomb means for us today. I had to smile and chuckle at God because our pastor's sermon points began something like "Because the tomb is empty..." I was loving it because last week on Facebook, Travis Cottrell had posted "It's time to celebrate because the tomb is empty, we aren't!" I honestly thought I would hit the floor if Pastor Larry had made that the last point. He didn't, but I wrote it in my notes because I LOVE it. :)

Because of the area I served in on Sunday, I came home a little later than my people. I had planned ahead and put a roast in the crock pot early Sunday morning and had plans to have a big afternoon meal. All week I had planned to set the dining room table with my formal china, crystal and silver. There were fresh purple tulips for the table and yes, even dessert.

I had not been home an hour when my Dad called to say it looked like my grandfather had suffered a stroke and they were putting him in an ambulance and headed to the hospital. I knew that I needed to leave for Chattanooga that afternoon instead of Monday morning.

I was tired and worried so Chad offered to finish up lunch while I took a nap. He and the girls set the table, finished cooking lunch and when they woke me up an hour later, the girls had themselves packed and suitcases in the car.

We ate, cleaned up and left. Not exactly the Easter afternoon I had planned. We made it to my parent's house and unpacked as my dad called to say they had finally moved my grandfather into a room.

Chloe and I spent a little time with him on Monday. He was his usual jovial self. Cracking jokes, and making us laugh asking me if he looked frumpy because he hadn't shaved. (He was trying to impress his nurse.) BUT, there was a seriousness to him that I don't often see. "It's a bad thing to be old." he told me. We just listened.

He is 91. In his mind, he doesn't understand why he can't go and do like he did 20 years ago. He wants to LIVE, but his body isn't what it used to be. It's hard to watch.

He was diagnosed as having a TIA and actually went home Monday evening. THAT made him happy.

Since we've been back home, I've been thinking about how short life really is. I'm so glad that I know that my grandfather knows Jesus. I'm thankful that no matter how bad his memory gets, when he closes his eyes in death, he will open his eyes in the presence of his Savior.

I'm thankful that one Sunday afternoon when I was about 5 he listened to the Holy Spirit when this blond haired granddaughter asked him why he didn't go to church and love Jesus.

I'm thankful that he has shown me what it means to be a cheerful giver.

I'm thankful that, as hard and difficult as my grandmother can be, he has loved her and been faithful to her for 70 years this June. (This man has carried and stacked more shoe boxes than any man should ever have to!)

There is so much to be learned. So many things to remember, so many stories. 91 years just doesn't seem long enough.