Old man, hospital bed
The room is filled with people he loves
He says, "Don't cry for me--I'll see you all someday."
He looks up and says, "I can see God's face."
This was my temporary home--it's not where I belonged
Windows and rooms I've been passing through
This was just a stop on the way to where I'm going
I'm not afraid because I know this was my temporary home.
Temporary Home, Carrie Underwood
My grandpa passed away yesterday. I guess being almost 34 before losing any of your biological grandparents is pretty amazing, but it's still hard when it happens.
But what a legacy he has left. I truly have never met a man who so "got" the fact that this world was for a short time, but his home was waiting in Heaven. All my life I have heard my Grandpa speak toward Heaven and proclaim His trust in the Savior who was preparing a place for him there.
But what a legacy he has left. I truly have never met a man who so "got" the fact that this world was for a short time, but his home was waiting in Heaven. All my life I have heard my Grandpa speak toward Heaven and proclaim His trust in the Savior who was preparing a place for him there.
Am I so mindful? It's hard not to get consumed with everything in a one-week radius of time. Here-and-now is what we see, so why shouldn't we live accordingly?
Because this isn't all there is. Heaven's waiting.
We went out to California to see Grandpa not even two weeks ago. We knew time was short. When we were all in the room, he was pretty much unresponsive--Mostly, I think, because his body just couldn't respond. But when I had a moment alone to say my goodbyes, I began to speak John 14:2-3 over him, and this man who was tremendously weak and withered and barely over 100 pounds, used every ounce of energy to sit up, his eyes opened wide and he gasped--then he sank back down. It was the only response his broken body would afford him, but it was the most beautiful thing. And it didn't even surprise me that he mustered up a response to the Word of God. Not to anything else, but to the Word of God.
This is my heritage. And my children's. And their children's.
And on a day when we're mindful of goodbyes, we praise the eternal God. For in Him it goes on...and on...and on...
Because this isn't all there is. Heaven's waiting.
We went out to California to see Grandpa not even two weeks ago. We knew time was short. When we were all in the room, he was pretty much unresponsive--Mostly, I think, because his body just couldn't respond. But when I had a moment alone to say my goodbyes, I began to speak John 14:2-3 over him, and this man who was tremendously weak and withered and barely over 100 pounds, used every ounce of energy to sit up, his eyes opened wide and he gasped--then he sank back down. It was the only response his broken body would afford him, but it was the most beautiful thing. And it didn't even surprise me that he mustered up a response to the Word of God. Not to anything else, but to the Word of God.
This is my heritage. And my children's. And their children's.
And on a day when we're mindful of goodbyes, we praise the eternal God. For in Him it goes on...and on...and on...
In memory of the Reverend Thomas Sayers
May 15, 1925 ~ October 8, 2010
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