Living What He Preached

Last week, a wonderful man of God passed away. My grandpa was one of the most Godly men I have ever known. He was always praying, always seeking after God. He loved his family. If ever there was a problem or something we were going through, we could always count on him to pray for us. I've been thinking back over the years of all the awesome memories we all shared with him: camping, fishing, hauling hay, sitting out in the yard talking, church, etc. But I can honestly say, the one memory that will stick with me probably more than anything, is the faith in God he showed during his last days.

Before he got to the point that he couldn't really talk, he preached his last message right there in his living room, laying in his bed. Quoting scripture, giving God all the praise. I wish I could have been there to hear him. But I was able to make it the weekend before he passed and I will never forget it. At this point he could hardly speak at all. If he did, you had to get real close and just try and make out the words that he would say. That Saturday, me, my aunts and my cousins stood beside his bed singing songs that we knew he loved. My grandpa sick and dying in the bed, would raise his hands and say Yes Lord and Amen. It was so hard to get through any song without crying. Watching him praising his Savior even in the bad times. He was truly living out the words he had always preached. Praising God no matter what.

Everyone stayed the last few days with him, taking turns staying up. This gave my granny relief and allowed her to get some much needed rest. And let me tell you, you will never meet a sweeter, more tender hearted woman than her. Anyway, one night my aunt said as she was staying up by his bedside and she heard choir music. No one singing, just the sweet music of the choir. She said, right where that music was, my grandpa's eyes were fixed on that area. She didn't mention the music to anyone because she said, I thought you all might think I'm crazy. lol  Well, another aunt and two more of my cousins heard the same sweet choir music. My grandpa would say raise his hands praising the Lord. I believe with all my heart, this was the music from heaven, welcoming him home. It was only a few days after that, that the Lord took him to the place He had lived his life to be.

We are sad that we won't see him on earth anymore but oh how sweet it is to know exactly where he is. A new body, a new hand...singing unending praises at the feet of Jesus. My grandpa's son, my uncle, preached his funeral. I can't imagine how tough that would be but he did an amazing job. He truly made it feel like a homecoming for my grandpa. Well, that's how I felt anyway. If you left the funeral doubting who God is and the one you should be serving, then you must've been asleep. :)

The one song that played over and over in my head that weekend was:
And on that day when my strength is failing
the end draws near and my time has come.
Still my soul will sing your praise unending
10,000 years and then forever more.

I am thankful that my family has come from amazing faith legacies. Both sets of my grandparents and my husbands grandparents were strong believers and lived it in their daily lives.  We are so blessed to come from such great families!!