“My very dear child! What shall I say? A holy and good God has covered us with a dark cloud. O that we may kiss the rod, and lay our hands on our mouths! The Lord has done it. He has made me adore His goodness, that we had him so long. But my God lives; and He has my heart. O what a legacy my husband, and your father, has left us! We are all given to God; and there I am, and love to be. Your affectionate mother, Sarah Edwards.”
I adore the goodness of God in all the years that he gave my granddaddy to me and my family. I do hurt at his death. I hurt in a way I have never hurt before. It's a hurt that seems to cut both ways. In a sense, you want it to go away or ease up. But, in another way--just as fervent--you don't want it to leave because the depth of the hurt is an indication of the depth of the love and I never want that love to be minimized or forgotten.
However, even through the hurt I do, by God's grace adore the goodness of God that we had my granddaddy for so long. I adore his goodness in using my granddaddy to bring me to faith in Christ and for setting such a marvelous example of a loving grandfather and faithful pastor. Granddaddy wrote in one of his sermons, "As times got harder for Paul, Jesus got sweeter." And it was so with my granddaddy as well. The harder things got, the sweeter Jesus was. He did not articulate it maybe the same way I do, but he treasured Christ in and through all things. He loved his family. I adore the goodness of God in giving me and our family our Granddaddy for so long.
I adore the goodness of God this past week as well in the prayers and kind words of church members and family and friends. I adore the goodness of God in being able to be a small part of my Granddaddy's memorial service, which was spectacular. I adore the goodness of God of being able to weep with my family and to do so as a family. I realized or was reminded this week of just how much I love my family and how much I want to show that more from now on.
One of the most cherished graces of God to me this past week came the day of the funeral. The family time for visitation was from 10-2pm. I was in the church with some other family members: my mom, two uncles, grandma, and other family. I had purposefully tried to not see my granddaddy at the visitation the night before or at the funeral home on Saturday. I just didn't want to remember him that way. But it was inevitable that I would see him sometime in the week. I did several times. I found myself looking at all the flowers that had been sent and I began to weep and tried to hold it in and just let it out quietly. My uncle Larry noticed me and came to my side. Our relationship has not been as close as it once was for a host of reasons. But he came to my side and put his arm around me and hugged me and let me weep on his shoulder. It may not have been special to him, but it was a priceless gift from God for me.
Our family has wept and we will weep. I don't know if I realized just how much I loved my Granddaddy. I do now--now that I know he will never call me again on a Sunday night to ask me how my day went or he will never say again to me on the phone, "Can I do something?" which meant he was about to pray with me. I'll never again here him say, "You tell Holly and the girls that some crazy guy said hello and that he loves them." He'll never ask again, "How's the boss?" which meant, "How's Shadow doing?"
But in and through all of those "never agains" God is good and kind and right in all that he does. One day, because of the work of Christ in the life of my granddaddy and in my life, we will see each other again and I know that when we see each other, he will give me a great big ol' bearhug just like he gave me as a little boy and we will adore the goodness of God in the face of Jesus Christ forever and ever.