Tuesday, 15 July 2008

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  Dear friends,

   

  The words to a familiar song have been running through my mind:

   

  Count your blessings, name them one by one,

  Count your many blessings see what God has done.

   

  For those of you who don’t already know, I lost my grandfather a couple weeks ago.  He fought valiantly against the cancer that wracked his body, but finally went to sleep peacefully in Jesus at about 8:15 Sunday morning, June 22.  Words are simply inadequate to describe just how we felt, but the prayers and support of friends and family, and God’s sustaining strength brought us through.

   

  I only met my grandfather about 13 years ago.  My mother and her father were separated when she was 5 years old, and through a series of unfortunate events, although her father tried desperately to keep in touch with her and later to find out where she was, he was not able to see her or speak to her for 40 years.  Then through a series of events only God could have orchestrated, my mother placed a call to his home, spoke with his wife, and heard these words, “I always knew you would call.  We have been praying for you all these years!”

   

  Over the next 12 years we built many happy memories together, making applesauce in the fall, going to Greenfield village, listening to stories from the farm, or just spending time together.  We also met all of the rest of our family who we had never known.  It was thrilling to hear the stories of how they had always known about my mother, had prayed for her, and wondered if they would ever meet her.  It was like a small picture of what it will be like in heaven when all of God’s children join together in one big happy family.

   

  Unlike the perfect world God made at creation, our lives here are framed by two short words, birth and death, between which we discover the brevity of life.  When we first learned that my grandfather had been given only six months to live, we could not all go immediately to visit him, so my mother flew up to spend some time with him.  Unfortunately, during the time she was there Dad and I both became very sick, and her time was cut short.  When she returned home to help us recover, she too became very sick and it was quite some time before we began to resume our normal activities.  Consequently our plans for all of us to return to Michigan were thwarted.

   

  My grandfather was a very strong man and never complained about much.  Even though he might be experiencing some discomfort or pain, he would always say he was doing pretty good.  When he started to say he was doing fair, or mentioning that he was in pain, we knew he was getting worse and started making plans to go up and visit.

   

  We finally settled on a date.  June 23 worked well for everyone concerned and we planned to spend the first part of the week there with my grandparents, then travel to my brother’s just two hours west, and then finish the week at a conference about two hours north of my brother’s place.  Then we would stop back by my grandparent’s home on our way back to North Carolina.

   

  I am very thankful that at the encouragement of some friends and the hospice worker on his case, we decided to leave five days earlier than we had planned, arriving on Thursday, June 19.  That afternoon was the last time we saw him awake and alert, and able to communicate with us.  As my mother fed him strawberries picked from his own berry patch that day, he kept saying, “Mmmmm, wow!”  God had given us one more special memory with him that day.

   

  We stayed close by his bedside, along with my grandmother, my aunt and uncle and my cousin.  Saturday was a very difficult day for the family, but God sent us just the help we needed to make it through.  My brother, who has over 15 years of experience working in nursing home facilities, came with his wife and youngest son Friday and stayed through Sabbath, giving Papaw the very best of care.  I was so thankful God had given him the experience and training to know just what needed to be done and how to do it.  God also sent a very helpful and understanding nurse who did everything she could for my grandfather that day.  What’s more, as she and my mother visited, they discovered that they had both lived in the same little town in Alabama during the same time over 30 years ago.  They finally decided they must have met during that time and that is why they each thought the other looked so familiar.

   

  That night the family gathered around his bedside.  Each one took time with him to share their final goodbyes, we sang and prayed together, and our pastor shared from his experiences with my grandfather and encouraged our hearts with his prayer.  I think we all sensed a strength we didn’t feel – the strength that comes from knowing that God is with you, taking you by the hand, and sometimes carrying you through the trials of life.

   

  We were all restless that night, not knowing whether he would survive until morning.  Our prayer was that God would not allow him to continue to suffer, that God would either raise him up or simply let him go to rest peacefully.  We took turns sitting by his bedside, holding his hand, praying with him, singing to him, reading scripture, and sometimes just sitting quietly.  The next morning our prayers were answered as he quietly breathed his last breath.  We gathered around his bedside and prayed together, thanking God for the blessings He had given us through his life, and the great blessing of the hope of the resurrection.

   

  Yes, I am thankful the blessing of meeting and knowing my grandfather, the blessing of getting to see him again and spend time with him before he died, the blessing of his life and ministry to others, the blessing of the strength and dignity of character he passed on to his family, the blessing of all the memories I have of spending time with him, and the blessing of meeting all my family.

   

  I’m thankful for friends who care, who prayed for us during this time, sent thoughtful messages and encouraged us with words of hope and comfort.

   

  I’m even thankful for the flat tire we had on our trip.  Because in just over 2000 miles of driving, the tire went flat in my grandparents driveway, where there was access to an air compressor to air it up.  And I’m thankful for the tire shop that checked the tire, and after finding nothing wrong with it, replaced the valve stem, reset the tire on the rim, balanced it and put it back on without charge!

   

  I’m thankful for the many blessings I experienced while at the conference in Cedar Lake, for protection for the few thousand people on the camp ground from the tornadoes that touched down, ripping tents out of the ground and sending them flying hundreds of feet into the air, damaging cars and RV’s, causing 9 families (about 30 people) to be placed in other homes which were willingly made available.  Even though one of the youth meetings being held in a tent somehow missed the evacuation order, no one was hurt or injured as a result of the storm.  I’m thankful that God showed himself strong that night.  I’m thankful for the 30+ young people who stood up that night to commit their lives to the Lord through baptism.

   

  I’m thankful for God’s supernatural timing.  I’m thankful for meeting a lady at a gas station in Virginia who told us how to avoid a 3-hour delay on our way to Michigan.  I’m thankful for being at the right place at the right time to meet a man who was looking for exactly what we had to offer at our booth.

   

  I’m thankful that God provided a room for us on the way home for $40 less than what the rate was supposed to be.  I’m thankful that God provided the means for us to make the trip, and protected us in our travels.

   

  And I’m thankful for the way my grandfather shared about the Lord with everyone he met.  At the funeral I met a 14-year-old boy who my grandfather led to the Lord.  I’m thankful for the Godly heritage and strength of character that he passed on to our family, and especially my cousin, that gave him the courage to choose to stay in Nicaragua and continue to share his faith.  Josh, I applaud you!  We missed you, but you were carrying the torch Papaw lit in our family, spreading the light of God’s love just like Papaw did.  Hold the torch high, don’t let it fall!  I only pray that as we live our lives, we can instill this faith in others, that when we pass from the scene of action, others will be there to take the torch from our hands and carry on.

   

  Yes, I’m counting my blessings, not sorrows.  I want to be thankful for what the Lord gave, not focus on what we have lost.  In closing I would like to share a poem I wrote in memory of my grandfather, that simply highlights what he meant to me.

   

  A Tribute to My Grandfather

   

  My cousins named him Papaw,

  He loved us all the same,

  What he said was the law,

  He taught us to honor God’s name.

   

  Through the sermon he would snore,

  But he could tell you what the preacher said,

  And ask why you couldn’t remember more,

  As together you broke the daily bread.

   

  In his eyes the Scriptures came to light,

  He told us just what Jesus meant,

  When He said the harvest fields were white.

  He shared the gospel everywhere he went.

   

  I missed so many years with him,

  I never knew him till I was seventeen,

  But the memories I hold within,

  Reveal a strength of character seldom seen.

   

  We may never know just why

  Some things happen the way they do,

  But don’t just sit down and sigh,

  Rejoice, for God makes all things new.

   

  Mark Kent, 7/3/08

   

  I’m looking forward to the day when we can count our blessings at Jesus’ feet, and thank him throughout eternity for what He’s done for us.

   

  God bless!

   

  Mark Kent

   

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