Sunday, February 21, 2016

Death and Life and Nana

At 7:15 this morning, my grandmother Nana died. We knew it was coming: She had been deteriorating for some time, and after breaking her hip a week or so ago, we knew it couldn't be far off. And in the day or two leading up to it, as friends and family offered their support, prayers, and encouragement on Facebook, one comment in particular stood out to me:

"We will all miss her until we see her again."

I don't think I can say it any better than that. Of course I will miss her. I miss her now, and I am sure I will miss her more the next time we head into Shafter and realize that she is not there for us to visit. I will miss her breakfasts, and her amazing waffles and crisp bacon. I will miss her roast chicken dinners, and the days when the Mulligans would gather for family dinner with her and Papa (and I will miss the extra chicken legs and toast that she prepared for me without fail). Nana was the sweetest, kindest grandmother a boy could ask for: The world has not seen her equal, and we will miss her.


Until we see her again. Until we see her, shining like the sun, young and strong and full of life and laughter, in body as well as spirit. And so we are comforted even in our grief.

For we know she serves a Lord who came to destroy the one who held the power of death; We know she serves a Lord who was dead and is alive; We know she serves a Lord who holds the key to Death and Hades and sets the captives free. And we know that all those who believe in that Lord are saved.

And so we know that she is with Him today in Paradise. She does not live on "in our hearts"...such a great soul could hardly reside in such a cramped and fickle place. Nor does she live on merely in our memories: No, her dwelling is far grander than anything we could imagine. She really lives, and she really is there in Paradise.

We will all miss her until we see her again. But we will see her again, and every tear will be wiped away.

And I cannot think of anything more to say.