Don’t I know it. I don’t run anymore because, as I would tell our boys, I was a goober. After I tore my ACL many years ago, I continued to run before and after surgery, and as a result I apparently have some arthritis. That’s what my orthopedic doctor with no bedside manner told me. Actually it was more like, “stop running, stupid.” I have pretty much stopped, except for last Sunday. I went for a 5-mile run alone through my hometown of Newnan, Georgia. I felt fine. Still churned out 8-minute miles, and only had a few tears — but not from the pain.
Okay, let’s go back a few weeks. I was asked to teach Sunday morning, September 8 at the church we attend. I got to pick what I would teach on, and so after praying and talking with Hannah, I decided I would teach on some of my favorite verses: 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
I like these verses so much that I have two of the words tattooed on my arms in Greek – Eternal Glory. So, I began thinking a lot on these verses and writing down ideas, topics, points, and stories. I hadn’t taught in over a year and have never taught on a Sunday morning to a whole church. It was a burden to say the least, and while I put in a request for time off from being a dad, it wasn’t approved… so life also continued on. In addition, we were preparing to send off our good friend John Michael to the states for four months. Needless to say, there was a lot going on.
Saturday afternoon we got a call from my mom. My grandfather was being flown to Grady hospital in Atlanta from his home in Newnan. He was non-responsive and there was reason to suspect he had a stroke. I was going over my talk for the next morning and I think Hannah was starting to work on dinner. By the time we went to bed, they had found he had a massive brain bleed and was, for all intents and purposes, brain dead. He was on life support. When my mom called to tell me, I was sitting in the brown leather chair in our office. Hannah saw me take the call and walked over. I just cried. We knew in counting the cost of choosing foreign mission work that something like this was possible. But I never considered who or when.
I decided not to say anything about this Sunday morning while I was teaching, and it was incredibly difficult. It’s also yet another example of how our sovereign God works. I spent a week studying what the Bible has to say about suffering and trials – how we are to view them and how we can respond to them. Only to come face to face with great sorrow as I taught through these 3 verses. Looking towards what is unseen, and hoping towards eternity. It went well enough I suppose, I mostly blacked out. But Hannah said I was the next John Piper… I kid. (Haha)
Grandaddy was taken off life support that afternoon and went home to be with his Savior Jesus. The last time we were home in February, he told me he was tired and he missed grandmamma who went 6 years before he did. They were married for 62 years when she passed. He passed on September 8 and their anniversary was September 11.
Harris and I flew back home on Wednesday, September 11. Tickets were expensive, so just he and I went, though I wished like anything to have Hannah with me. I knew it was going to be hard. We grew up just through the woods from Grandaddy and Grandmamma’s house and they were a constant in our lives. And I knew it would be hard seeing dad. He would try to be strong, but I knew he was hurting.
It was difficult in many ways going back for his funeral. Our family, like all families, has its share of drama and dysfunction. And of course, pain and suffering tend to bring out the best in all of us and make those problems disappear… Yea, right. I told my dad I would like to speak at Granddaddy’s service, and so I was once again burdened. Only this time it felt heavier. How to remember him well. He lived on this earth for 89 years. They had 6 kids, 17 grandkids, and 18 great grandkids… I know, right! It was always loud and rambunctious when our family got together.
I remember as a kid all the dads and sons would go to Atlanta Braves games. It was a big deal and we always had lots of fun. I played baseball from the time I was 5 until 13. And so, I talked about Grandaddy’s life through the lens of a baseball glove. I got to see him change so much over the last 38 years. New baseball gloves are stiff and hard, they have to be broken in and softened. I watched throughout my life as grandaddy was softened by life. We often don’t choose these events; they happen to us. They refine us and change us. Grandkids have a way of softening the edges. Grandmamma got sick the first time and that really changed him, even more so when she passed away. At some point the glove is well worn and well used and it has to be hung up, it’s no longer usable.
On September 8, Grandaddy hung up his glove. That night when we had to tell our boys, which was incredibly difficult, Harris hugged me for a long time. Then he looked at me as he said he was happy and sad. When I asked why, he told me he was sad because he would miss Grandaddy, but happy because he was in heaven walking and dancing without a walker and he was with Grandmamma again. Harris is 7.
Outwardly we are wasting away, but inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For these light and momentary afflictions are preparing for us an eternal weight of glory, as we look not to what is seen but what is unseen. For what is seen is transient, but what is unseen is eternal.
Grandaddy’s eyes were fixed on eternity at the end. He was tired and ready to cross Jordan to the other side, where there was no longer sickness, sorrow, pain, or death.
Everyone dies, but not everyone lives. My grandfather did.
Grandaddy lived a full life and was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses at the end. As I ran last Sunday, I ran around their old house and then downtown to a place that I hold dear and their church. I cried as I ran, remembering with great fondness the blessing of so many memories with my grandfather, Don Jones.
As we made our way back home Monday, I couldn’t help but hope that I live such a full and fruitful life with a big family and many friends. And, Lord willing and the Creek don’t rise, that day will come, but not for a long time.
Post Script: I came home from cross country practice in maybe 11th grade to find my Spanish teacher standing in the driveway talking to my dad. Mrs. Mullins lives on our street and she caught me cheating on a verbs test. Long night…. Fast-forward almost 20 years to the visitation for my grandfather and wouldn’t you know Mrs. Mullins came to give her condolences and gave a little chuckle when she asked what I was up to: living in El Salvador learning Spanish. God is sovereign for sure, but I have to believe He may have a sense of humor too.