Processing

I'm staring at the Christmas tree lights struggling to muster up some sort of joy.

The truth is this doesn't feel very joyous and probably won't this year.

Telling our child that her great grandfather has been given months to live was among the hardest things I've ever done. Watching her begin to process her feelings has been even harder. Modeling a grief that practices all the things I've preached to her is more difficult than I expected.

Do I really believe that God is sovereign even in this?

Do I really believe that Heaven is a better place?

Do I really believe that grief can be grace filled and, dare I say it, joy filled?

Yes, in every fiber that is in me. I believe yet I find myself praying that all too familiar prayer: “I believe—help me in my unbelief.”

At 41, I realize how unusual it is to still have 2 of my grandparents living. My maternal grandfather died when I was in 7^th grade. My maternal grandmother died 4 years ago. Nanny and Granddaddy have been fixture in my life.

In my mind, I suppose, Granddaddy has been put on a bit of a pedestal. I know he has faults and, truthfully, that is part of the reason I admire him so. His faults along with all the many good qualities make him uniquely Granddaddy.

He has always fascinated me. I was fascinated from a young age about the fact that he served in some of the heaviest fighting in World War II. I was in awe that he could have been so brave at such a very young age. Now, I know that the man I always thought so brave had a good, healthy dose of fear and would deal with guilt and the horrors of war for the rest of his life.

I remember realizing that he had been afraid and it endeared him to me even more. Despite his fear, he simply did what had to be done.

When I went through cancer, it was Nanny and Granddaddy who drove me to many of my therapy appointments and leg fittings. Granddaddy made it fun. I also heard him say a curse word for the first time when a deer ran in front of us and really messed up the front of my parents' car! Those trips are some of my fondest memories.

He and my Nanny have been married since 1944. Sixty six years. The majority of both their lives have been spent together. I simply can not imagine thinking of saying goodbye to the other half of yourself.

This Christmas will be probably be more subdued than others. I know tears will fall. It is just and good. Maybe there isn't a better time to be thankful for and to celebrate a life well lived, I don't know.

But for now as we process and pray for peace, wisdom, and comfort, I know that I am much more thankful for the baby in the manger and the cross on which He died.