For His Glory

As beautiful as the morning lily, as soft as a rose, as strong as a warrior, as fierce as a Lioness, and as bold as a grandmother, who has raised all of her children including half of her grandchildren, Elsie Faye you are just that.

The backbone of a family of 5. A woman, who in her younger days held her family together by raising 4 children, tending to the garden, and house, all while repairing meals, and making sure all chores where done.

While most of the grandkids may have memories of papaw, (whom they all show favor too) mine are all of you.

The times I used to fight with the others over who loved you the most, while you bounced us on your knee, arguing over who was Momaw’s girl.

The times you used to call my house at all hours of the day and night while I was in school, the times you used to call just to see how I was doing even when I didn’t feel like talking, the persistence of your love, the magnitude and depth of your love, the gratefulness in your heart, the devotion and sincere emotion and feelings you contained within your soul is unmeasurable, to any human in the physical form in this life. The mercy you show others, when they don’t deserve it, (even with your touch of added sassitude; yeah, I made that word up, She’s a sassy one!) The way you always stood by myside when no one else would. The way you loved me when I was an addict, and undeserving of love, the way you took me in an gave me room, board and bread, when everyone else shut, locked and left me alone, the way you reached out your hand when others washed theirs, the way you stood by me when no one else was within site, the example you set by being your fancy little self, when the world says blend in… All of these are the ways you stand out and have pierced my heart with arrows that I never mentioned to you.

Your cancer sucks, but the mere thought of losing my only grandmother, is breath taking, and damaging. I’m undone. I’m lost in a world of why. But I’m left with Jesus promising me that he’d never leave me comfortless even if this doesn’t feel comfortable. I’m left trusting my creator to honor the prayers of my great-grandmother, that you are saved before your departure, and I’m left trusting that my Jesus will get the Glory from your cancer one way or another.

The pain hurts, the emotions hurt, the suffering hurts, seeing you without your hair hurts, preparing to see you in the hospital hurts more, preparing to see you in that casket is something I cannot do, so I’ll just breath it all in and trust him to get me through one day at a time. I’ll never be ready for your last breath, but I am ready to face your sickness. I’ll never be ready for your final departure, but I’ll be by you until then, if not in the physical then heart to heart.

I feel my heart bleeding today. With every deep breath I try to stitch it up, and it breaks back open. I’ll bleed it out, cry it out, and pray it out. I’ll look to god’s word and find comfort in him and the signs.

This is all a result of the shattered time capsule.

I still feel, I still feel everything, and everyone, especially those I care about. I put on a great show of fake numbness, but in reality, my heart beats heavier than it ever has, and it loves truer with guards and hedges in place. My heart is open to those I love and closed to those who have betrayed me. My heart is a fortress, at the very core is my breath. Very few people dare to enter into my core,

Jesus has use you Elsie Faye mold my very core.

Last night I had a dream about my precious grandmother and was told in the dream “it’s worth taking off work for” and then being told the bad news today, only to actually take off work for a day and a half. I’m not sure what God has instore, but I pray the Father’s will be done, not according to my desires but according to his direction, his purpose, and his glory.

I’ll praise him in the storm.

For I know the precious Flowers are about to bloom, and I know harvest is near!!!

The anchor holds, though the ship is battered
The anchor holds, though the sails are torn
I have fallen on my knees, as I faced the raging seas
The anchor holds, in spite of the storm.—-(Ray Boltz)