I have so many great memories with my grandpa that my mind dances amongst them. Their house in Jonesboro, Georgia will always be one of my favorite places, though they haven't lived there for years. It was on lake, nestled among tall trees. It was a beautiful, quiet retreat for me. I have only happy memories there. I can still smell the smell that always greeted you when you walked in the door. Atlanta will always carry with it times I shared with my grandad. Going to Six Flags, eating at the Varsity, seeing the original Chick-Fil-A Dwarf House.
My grandpa helped walk me down the aisle when I got married. He had no daughters, and I am the only granddaughter. It was such a special event for him to share with me. I've posted a picture from the last time I was able to see my grandpa. In July, on our way home from Florida, we stopped to spend time with my grandparents. They got to meet Ben, and I got to just be with them again.
We looked into what it would take for me to be able to attend the funeral, and it just didn't make sense. This is the worst week since we arrived for me to travel--the container with our belongings from the States is arriving. There's no way Cody could do it by himself. If I had tried, I would have been in Atlanta for barely 24 hours. I am so thankful, however, that my brother is able to return from Kazakhstan, where he's serving in the Peace Corp.
We knew when we decided to move overseas that we would miss a lot of life events back in the States. This one came too quickly. I am studying Genesis right now and the life of the Patriarchs. Much is made of honoring their lives. Brothers come together to bury their father. So it's really hard to realize I won't be able to formally participate in this event with the rest of my family. God has been so sweet to me, even in this. He reminded me that when I chose to follow His call, I knew I would be giving up some things that were important to me. Even the things I value most in this world, however, pale in comparison to following Jesus. I could pick no other place to be. He fills my heart with a peace and contentedness that makes all else fall away. So as the thought entered my mind that not being able to attend my grandfather's funeral was one more thing I was giving up to be where God wants me to be, I felt like the Lord said, "It's OK." It's OK that I won't be there. I will honor my grandpa in a hundred other ways by continuing to live what he modeled, by telling my kids about all those great memories I have with him. It's OK. I am where I need to be.
So in a small little way, this entry is a memorial stone for him. A marker of a life well lived and well loved. I would be so blessed to see my little men grow up to inherit some of their great-grandfather's character, strength and joy.
O.W. Simmons 1919-2008.
1 comment:
Your words bring tears to my eyes. The struggle of being a living sacrifice is the new pain of new offerings on the altar. I will be praying for you, as you trust God in a deeper and more painful way than ever before. And I pray that you would experience His presence that much more, as a bedrock over which your emotions can roll like waves.
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