This past week was incredibly hard. My grandpa in southwest VA has been in and out of the hospital the past couple of months. We got a call a week or so ago that he was back in...then Wednesday we got the call that my dad needed to come and see him. Translation: Grandpa Cox is dying and he doesn't have much time. And so without knowing a ton of information, or knowing what was happening, I entered into prepping myself for going home for a funeral, probably not getting to say goodbye to this man I love, and praying for his comfort and healing.
My dad said to my mom, "I feel like God wants me to go see my dad, I just have to go." Which if you don't know my dad, he only became a Christian when I was a senior in college. My heart is overflowing with gratitude that God is drawing my dad in even closer and deeper and that my dad is growing into such a strong man of God.
I'm spiderwebbing a bit in the story telling, but I'm still processing the last few days and the rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts I've experienced. As of Wednesday night, my grandpa was dying, and then I didn't know anything else until Friday evening. Dad made it down to Grundy sometime Friday morning and spent time with Grandpa. From all looks of things, Grandpa has a laundry list of things wrong with him, from congestive heart failure and fluid in his heart to emphysema and type 2 diabetes. But what had scared the family down there, was his deep depression and seemingly giving up the will to live. But God sending my dad down there, was the prescriptive medicine Grandpa needed, and now the outlook isn't so grim. There is hope on the horizon, and there is talk of Grandpa's eventual move from the hospital back to live with family.
But Wednesday through Friday was rough. I withdrew inside myself, withdrew from community...how do you even begin to share something like that? I wasn't in mourning yet, I was in this period of prayer, supplication, and waiting. But the one thing that happened was that I clung to God. I sang and sang and read scripture and remembered promises and sang some more. And God was so good. I just felt held and loved and despite the fear and anxiety there was a calmness that everything was going to work out to good. And just picturing my dad there with grandpa, and what God has done in both those men's lives...well, He makes all things good.
I went to the Mill last night, a little hesitant to still be absorbing the news that Grandpa had improved in the company of so many people, but still desiring to worship and praise God. One of the pastors, Daniel Grothe read psalm 112 to start the service... at this line, my friend Ruth wrapped her arm around my shoulders and just held on:
Surely the righteous will never be shaken;
they will be remembered forever.
They will have no fear of bad news;
their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the LORD.
Their hearts are secure, they will have no fear;
in the end they will look in triumph on their foes.
And so my heart is secure, ready to face the next few weeks with a vigor, eager to spend some time with a church that I love over break, hopefully see my grandpa, and really dig out what God is calling me to after this crazy year is over. God is so good.
Your family will be in our prayers.
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