Today I attended the funeral for my grandfather, for my grandad. It was a day full of so many emotions. I could probably write and write from all the thoughts I've had this week alone. But, I thought maybe just a few thoughts about who my Grandad was, and who he helped me become would be better.
As I was writing this tonight, I realized that we each have a different context when we think about people. For me, I was the only one today who was a granddaughter to my grandad. (I’m representing my cousin Melissa too.) Growing up as a granddaughter was something really special. And, let’s be honest, I caused a lot less headaches than all the grandsons. Anyway, as a granddaughter, I always felt special. But, grandad had a way of doing that, of making the person right in front of him feel like the only person in the world. Most of the time it was a good thing, like if you were sitting across the booth from him for an Arby’s milkshake. Sometimes though, when you didn’t back up the 2nd baseman correctly…well, you still felt like the only person in the world.
If you ever played softball for my grandad, you know exactly what I’m talking about. There were two things he couldn’t stand: his players making mistakes and the umps making mistakes. But, he did something about both of those things. First, he taught his players everything they needed to succeed. I guess that’s what great coaches do. One of my favorite memories with my grandad is getting to go to softball games with him when he coached for the Home Mission Board. He had some great teams. He had some great players. But, he made everybody better by making sure they understood their role.
We would pull into games in Grandpa Moore’s old truck. I truly loved being at the ballpark with him. But, my favorite day was when we were at First Baptist Decatur, and we had a rain delay. He didn’t waste it. We found a classroom inside the church. He went over every scenario that could happen on a field and where each person on the field should be moving in each scenario. I learned more in that one day than I did in all my years of playing softball. Sometimes (mostly when someone couldn’t make it), I got to play. I was technically too young to play. But, I loved being apart of the team. He would always bat me last which meant I needed to get a double or get out because Corey was batting leadoff & I needed at least a two base lead because of his speed. Anyway, back to what my grandad cared about: doing things the right way, oh yeah, and the umps getting the calls right. One thing that meant as a player though was that you always knew grandad had your back (if you were right). I’ve seen him get thrown out of games. I’ve seen him come really close. He wasn’t going to leave his people out there to fight alone. Of course, I knew this long before I started going to softball games with him. I knew it the night when I was ten & he stood between me and a very scary situation. I think I always knew after that night, that grandad was the real deal. He was going to go down fighting before His people were hurt.
Even on his last days, he was making sure his people were okay. Mom called me earlier this week and said he just wanted to make sure his family was okay. Well, here we are grandad. We are okay. We are better than okay because we have the hope of Jesus, the hope of something better. You don’t have to be our superman, because you entrusted us to the Creator and Savior of the world. You knew where to point us. You knew that in 100 years, the only thing that would matter is our relationship with Jesus.
So, as I’ve sat this week and thought about my grandad’s life, I’ve mostly thought about my relationship with Jesus. I’ve thought about the words of this song I love, “Speak to me when the silence steals my voice. Come to me in the valley of unknowns. You understand me. So, I throw all my cares before you, my doubts and fears don’t scare You. You’re bigger than I thought you were.” I think Grandad is in Heaven realizing everything He ever thought about God didn’t even touch the surface. I think He would tell us to rest in that hope. So, I’m going to lean a little closer to Jesus, to ask Him to help me reach the faith that’s underneath. I am choosing today to rest in my Father’s hands.
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