This is actually part of a former post. I just decided to break it off at the end because the original post, “Roots” was so long. Also it felt as if it stood just as well (if not better) on it’s own. You can read “Roots” Here if you choose to do so.
A while back, Andrew and I went to visit his brother Darryl’s grave. Darryl died at the age of twenty; he’d been in a motorcycle accident that left him in a coma. He was removed from life support after several weeks, and family was informed that he wouldn’t make it through the night, however he was in a coma for a total of 14 months before he passed away. Andrew was only thirteen years old at the time of his brothers passing. He looked up to His brother greatly, so this was understandably a difficult time in his life, as it would have been for the entire family. Whenever we’ve visited Darryl’s grave I’ve always felt that loss. How can you feel the loss of someone you’ve never even met? Still, he’s family, and someone who is missing from our lives. It’s a sad story. grieving the loss of the people you are close to is always heartbreaking.
While visiting Darryl’s grave, we decided to look for my great-grandparents plots as well. After I had re-read my great-grandparents history, I realized that they were buried in the same cemetery as Darryl, and wanted to see this for myself, so we went into the office and gave them their names.
They looked up the information for us, and came back with a map (their location circled for us to follow). We were also offered some assistance finding the plots if we should need it, but we decided to go it alone. It took us some time to find them, but when we did I found myself quite teary. Upon both of their grave markers was a picture of an open Bible with the words “Holy Bible.” Being that I’m the only Christian in my family (so God isn’t talked about and my faith isn’t something we share.) I feel more connected to those in my family who are no longer here with us, and even those I never had the chance to know, like my great-grandpa, who passed away before I was ever born.
I however, have a few memories of my grandpa who died when I was still quite young, like him showing me how to shell peas, and his postcard collection which was quite large. He had a Citizen band radio, and would talk to people over the airwaves, and made many friends this way. He also ministered to those with handicaps and made encouraging recordings for them. He was also a poet like myself, and shared poetry from books that he found encouraging and inspiring. I really identify with my grandpa. I think we have like hearts, and similarly I too have made many friends who are family to me, and ministered in much the same way–just a different technology. Reading through my grandpa’s poems I cry. I see his heart, and I think he would be happy to know that his only granddaughter has followed a very similar path.
Growing up under the leadership of the Jehovah’s Witnesses didn’t lead my family to God, in fact It sort of derailed us from finding Him. But God pursues us and He never gives up, so for me, there’s always hope as I wait for the rest of my family to receive Him too.
“For thus says the Lord GOD, “Behold, I Myself will search for My sheep and seek them out.”
“For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
“And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all those he has given me, but raise them up at the last day.”
Knowing what I know about God, the things He continues to show me, and the secrets He reveals, I have no doubt that He doesn’t miss a beat. His heart aches for us, as our hearts ache for those we desire Him to bring into, or even back into, our fold.