As with those who are in their 60’s and later, I find myself looking back at my past and thinking about it. Particularly during Lent, a period of reflection, my past comes back. Today, at work, something triggered those remembrances and I mentioned to a couple of people at work about my past. I told them part about living in an orphanage, and of living in a foster home. I spoke to them about abusing drugs back when, and of some of the incredibly stupid things I did. At the same time, I realized that this was truly the past for me, and I told them that also. It has been well over 40 years since those things were issues to me, but the memory is still there. It it no longer there as something that is sharp and painful, but rather as an old memory without the power to harm me. I have children and grandchildren. I have a wife who loves me. I am rich, incredibly rich but not in money. I am rich in family and friends. The old memories are just that. They still have the power to stir me to tears, but no longer the power to hurt me.
Today I was remembering another memory that made me shed tears. It was a memory of family and what it means to love for the best for another person. In 1990, we were ready to set out to go overseas as missionaries. But, my wife’s grandmother was dying. It was uncertain how long she would last. It could be days. It could be months. The missionary society had commissioned us, but were we ready to go and leave behind a dying grandmother? My wife’s grandmother solved the issue by telling us to go. We have a picture or two of her with my wife (and me). She was a committed Evangelical missionary-minded Christian who believed with all her heart that everyone needed to hear that Jesus loved them and had died for them. And, so, she was convinced that we needed to go. She was determined that we should not delay our leaving for such a simple thing as her dying. She knew where she was going and she knew where we needed to go. And, so, she refused to allow us to stay, and sent us off with her blessing.
Six weeks later, we received the news while we were in overseas language training. She had died. We wept. We held a memorial serving in honor of her passing in Cochabamba, Bolivia. And, we stayed in Bolivia and served out our term there. And, then, we returned to South America for two more terms. She set the standard, what else could we do but honor her memory by serving the Lord and letting as many people as we could let know that Jesus is Lord and that He loves you?
This is Lent. We have been thinking about God’s love for us. My grandmother-in-law’s life and story is a very real experience of God’s love and the Father’s desire that all should come to know him. We often talk about God’s love and about the sacrificial love of His Son. Other human examples than Jesus are hard to find. But, in my grandmother-in-law I have an example of sacrificial love and of the willingness to even die without ever seeing your grandchildren again for the hope that they will serve the Lord. She gave up even her very human relationships so that we could go and serve the Lord without regret and without evil memories. And, she succeeded. I have no regrets. We were right to carry out her wishes. She is waiting for us, and I so want to see her again. Lent is about loving the Lord our God with all our hearts, our minds, and our souls. My grandmother-in-law fulfilled all those specifications.
I will turn 65 this year. I do not know how much longer the Lord will give me. But, I have my grandmother-in-law’s example of what it means to support my children and my grandchildren. And, I intend to follow her example of love and of the willingness to even give up seeing them again only so that they may serve the Lord our God with all their hearts, their mind, and their soul. May God give me the strength necessary should I someday have to counsel my children or grandchildren to pursue the Lord.
May Our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on us and on our grandmother. Indeed, may the circle be unbroken by and by, Lord, by and by. There’s a better home awaiting in the sky Lord, in the sky.
Dear brother Ernesto:
Thank God you let your grandmother-in-law speak Jesus’ words to you about letting the dead bury their dead. And thank you for tellin us about it now.