a legacy worth passing on

A week ago, my dearly beloved Grandma Grace passed out of Earth's confining grip into Heavenly freedom and glory. I imagine her running toward the Light of Hope, never growing weary, never growing faint.

She lived 90 full years of life, and it was only the last 7 months or so that she had a steep decline in health, preparing the rest of us to let her go. I am happy for the joy and confidence she has as she enters Heaven's gates, because she's been saying she was ready to go live in eternity for at least the last decade of her life.

I am happy for her, at the same time as I grieve for myself and the end of new memories shared with this godly woman. There are plenty of others who can write a better tribute to her life than I can, numerating her many accomplishments and giving her accolades where due. What I write now is not intended as a full tribute to my grandmother's life. Instead, I write out of a desire to honor who she was in MY life. She has left a legacy that impacts me deeply, and convicts me of my responsibility to pass this heritage on.

Photo taken at my uncle's wedding,
around 33 years ago. Pictured is me, age 5.

Grandma Grace was true cheerleader for our family. She wrote frequent encouraging words of exhortation to us, often in the form of cards and emails. Every note held a reminder to pursue faith in Jesus as the only answer to hard questions in life. This reminder came in simple words directed at my babies on their 1st birthdays, and in more complex words directed at me. My husband particularly felt her words ministered to him in times of walking our family through discouraging circumstances. It shows me the power of a regular, encouraging word, especially rare in our hurried culture which can't be bothered with the time to stop and write a thoughtful note.

In the final decade of my grandma's life, she surprised me by becoming the biggest fan of this little blog I have kept. Any woman who learned to write emails in her sixties, and read blogs in her eighties, has great character! She was so proud of the things that I wrote here, and a believer in me as I dabbled in writing, quick to send me an encouragement following a post. In fact, the root of my love for writing may come largely from this grandmother, who wrote so much more than birthday cards in her lifetime. She authored and published three books, and wrote for countless other endeavors including radio programming and various newsletters. While it is tempting to be overcome by the impressive nature of published words, her example shows me that it was actually her numerous, small, unpublished words sent to me privately, that were most meaningful in my life. The world we live in values accomplishment, but the God we serve values our faithfulness to humbly and unselfishly use the gifts we've been given, outside of public recognition.

Perhaps my grandma's greatest legacy to our entire extended family was her belief in regular prayer and petition. A belief proved through action, and practiced joyfully. Prayer for those she loved, and prayer for those who had hurt her. Prayer for those who were lost. Prayer for those she met in the grocery store or doctor's office. Prayer as a constant part of her lifestyle. Prayer that came as a natural close to any conversation, with friends and strangers alike. She regularly asked people how she could pray for them, and there was never doubt that she would follow through.

It seems selfish to put it onto paper, but here I am, missing her, wondering who in my life will ever pray for me as faithfully as this dear grandmother did? Who else will fight my battles on her knees as desperately? And will something be forever lost here on Earth because her prayers have come to an end?

It offers a definitive challenge to pass on this legacy of constant prayer and extravagant use of encouraging words. I want the heritage of my children, and their children, to include these Spiritual riches.

This past July, I took a special trip with my middle child only (Sommer, aged 5 at the time.) We flew to a small town in the heart of Kansas to attend Grandma's 90th birthday party, and great excuse for a family reunion. She lived independently until a few months before her birthday, when she had gone to live with my aunt and family.

Grandma Grace with 8 of 12 grandchildren,
and 6 of 12 great-grandchildren

I'll never forget showing up to my aunt's house on the morning before the birthday party, asking how I could be helpful. Everyone had a job as there was food to make and decor to hang. But I was told I could be most helpful by getting Grandma ready for her party. While everyone else worked to prepare the birthday venue, I spent time with Grandma preparing the woman we celebrated. There isn't a single job I would have rather had.

As we began the process, I felt so unqualified to be the one dressing my 90-year-old grandma for her party. But there I was, asking her questions, taking her preferences into account, applying her make up, and feeling my inadequacies as a beautician bubble to the surface. She deserved an experienced make up artist, and the last thing I wanted was to draw her eyebrows on wrong! I curled her hair into position. I was so unqualified, and yet I had been chosen for this task. The privilege of this great responsibility felt sacred to me. In my heart, I knew these would be my last moments alone with her.

When she was ready, we sat on the couch together with a little extra time. She loved to read her Bible, and as it was getting harder for her to see, I offered to read a passage for her. Asking me to begin where her bookmark left off, I picked up in Matthew chapter 27. It is titled "Judas Hangs Himself".

I hesitated. "Um,... this isn't exactly a positive Scripture that fits a birthday mood. Are you sure this is what you want me to read?" My 5-year-old was also sitting with us and I was pretty sure we'd skipped this story in our Bible lessons.

"Yes," she assured me. "We are so close to the end of the book, why don't you go ahead and finish reading Matthew for me." A 90-year-old gets to hear what she wants on her birthday.

So I proceeded to read the final chapters in Matthew, the hanging of Judas the betrayer, Jesus' trial before Pilate, the cruel mocking by soldiers, on through the crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus Christ. Somewhere in the middle of the passage I began to sob between words so powerful that they came to life on the pages. I had to pause while my voice cracked, and fight back tears. While I read to a woman who was nearing the end of her life, my mind wandered to the many unfair, undeserved circumstances my grandmother had endured. She'd lived through poverty in the Great Depression, and through betrayal, and through interrupted and broken dreams. It can feel tragic and unjust.

Yet, at the end of her life, she sat next to me a woman full of unselfishness and forgiveness. Instead of brokenness, she leaves a powerful legacy of prayer and exhortation behind her. Her story is one of joy instead of mourning, one of praise instead of despair, and an example of how our strength can come out of sheer dependence on Jesus Christ.

Just as the book of Matthew finishes with the freedom from death found in the resurrection of Jesus, I am left with no doubts about my Grandma Grace's resurrection into Glory after her years here on Earth. She is free and joyful forevermore.

I am thankful for every moment I had with this beautiful example. I will miss my Grandma Grace, but her legacy lives on.

90th birthday cake and a few great granddaughters

Christmas of 2015

A hayride around our old farm on my grandma's 86th birthday

 Words of Hope to live by...

"You will keep in perfect peace

those whose minds are steadfast,

because they trust in you.

Trust in the Lord forever,

for the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal."

Isaiah 26:3,4

"But those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength.

The will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint."

Isaiah 40:31

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion-

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

Isaiah 61:1-3