Back in February, I lost my grandmother to a battle with cancer. It was awful. Watching someone you love suffer like that is horrendous. There is a loss of dignity that comes with death that is hard to encapsulate in words. It is simultaneously maddening and helpless.
As our family was making arrangements for the funeral, my dad asked me if I was interested in saying anything. I immediately said no, worrying about my ability to keep my cool in front of all those people, and figuring that others would cover what I wanted to say.
Then, the more time that went on, I felt God pull at me. I rarely say things like that, but I really did feel that God was leading me to say something at the funeral. I couldn't sleep that Saturday morning, so I got up, went downstairs, sat at the computer, and within 15 minutes had written what I was going to say, and I am so thankful that I did it. I was given 5 minutes at a microphone in front of my family, friends, and coworkers to simply and purely share the gospel and the hope that it brings in the face of pain like this. And I'm so thankful for that opportunity.
Here's what I said.
When I got the news on Friday morning that my grandma had passed away, I was in New York for a business meeting. I found myself in the midst of flight cancellations and delays on the way home that afternoon, and spent about 2 hours waiting on the tarmac for my plane to take off. The entire time I waited there, my constant thought was “I just need to get home.” Over and over I just kept thinking, if I can just get home, everything will be alright. Finally, the plane took off, landed, and I drove straight to a family dinner. I walked in out of the lonely blistering cold to a room filled with people that I love, who immediately embraced me, ate with me, reminisced with me, and cried with me. It was beautiful.
As I reflected on this, I couldn’t help but think that my grandma had been waiting too, and I’m sure the thought that encompassed her during these last couple weeks and months was that she too just wanted to get home. Her REAL home. Because I think deep down, we all know that this life as we’re living it now isn’t what we were truly made for. We all know that people we love are not supposed to get sick, struggle, or die. Neighbors and friends aren’t supposed to be at odds with each other. Family relationships aren’t supposed to be broken. Our hearts aren’t meant to be filled with jealousy, hatred, and anger. None of this was supposed to be this way. And we know that, too, because there was a time when God—the God who created the world—came and lived here with us on Earth. And you know what he spent much of his time doing? Crying. The Bible calls Jesus the “Man of Sorrows.” He wept over the brokenness of this place, and over the brokenness of our hearts.
And He died so that things wouldn’t have to stay this way forever. Jesus lived a perfect life, but was killed as a criminal anyway to pay for the sin that lives in the hearts of those who believe in Him. And then, the craziest part is that after He died, He actually rose from the dead. Now, He is beginning to weave this world back into the place it is intended to be, and when my grandmother woke up on Friday morning, she was with Him. This weekend was the best weekend she’s ever had, because she’s finally home. And one day, Jesus is coming again to put everything right and bring all his people home with him. The Bible says that He will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and that there will be no more funerals like this one, but only wedding feasts, and that we’ll live with Him forever. I’m confident that I will see my grandmother again. And not only that, but I will hug her, laugh with her, eat with her, enjoy a glass of wine with her, and maybe even scratch lotto tickets with her. And we’ll finally be home.
I was blessed to have my grandmother for the first 26 years of my life, and I'm certainly going to miss her. But I'm happier to say that I will see her again.
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| Her house |
