The Lord gives and takes away.

“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness.

Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish,
but everyone to come to repentance.

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief…”
2 Peter 3:9-10a

The last 48 hours have been a reminder to me of the fragility of life. When you’re standing on the diving board and scared to jump, you’re the one who decides when to finally make it happen. When you’re learning to skate and you need to let go of the wall you’re holding onto, you’re the one who finally has to release your grasp. But with death, regardless of how many choices you do get, the timing truly is all in God’s hands. It causes me to look heavenward in humble adoration of my God.

“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.

When can I go and meet with God?

My tears have been my food day and night,

while people way to me all day long, ‘Where is your God?’

These things I remember as I pour out my soul:

how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One

with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng.

Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Psalm 42:1-5

As I first learned to speak, I called my grandpa Dan, “Papoose”. I was the firstborn of what would be many grandchildren on my mom’s side of the family; but for my first few years of life, I got the attention to myself. I received his time, his praise, and his affection. For 22 years, my grandpa faithfully supported me in my endeavors.

Grandpa with my cousin Zeke. 

 Grandpa's chair - always filled with children.

I remember a specific time as a young child when I packed up my Little Mermaid sleeping bag and decided to run away from home after receiving discipline from my parents. It was Grandpa and Grandma who drove up alongside of me as I walked down the block and convinced me that life at home was worth going back to. Another time, they took my sister, Kaylea; my cousin, Nathan; and I fishing one Saturday out near some small, Podunk town. The whole way back to Waterloo along the abandoned country roads with the old farmhouses and creepy trees hanging over the road, Grandpa told the three of us haunted stories and had us scared for days. 

The summer after my high school graduation I rode on my first airplane with Grandpa when I decided to desert Grandma and Nathan on our cross-country roadtrip after they made me ride for 8 hours in a car with a dog. Sometime during my high school or college days Grandpa picked up the belief that I loved Betty Boop. Because of his unique ability to grab things out of the claw machines outside of stores like Walmart, I have a huge box of stuffed Betty Boop dolls that Grandpa has accumulated for me because he thought I loved Betty Boop. I never had the heart to tell him that she really wasn’t that important to me because the fact that he kept winning those dolls for me was important to me.  

Last summer, I sat with Grandpa and Uncle Bruce at one of their favorite lunch stops when I met the two of them at Burger King. A fine dining experience and not because of the food. On my summer afternoon runs, I loved running along North Front Street in front of Mark Schellen’s fitness place and seeing Grandpa drive over the railroad tracks on his way to the post office. He always had his window down, an arm waving out it, and a big smile pasted on his face.

I can’t count the number of times my grandpa drove hours to come watch me play ball, even if he was only going to catch the last fifteen minutes of the game. It’d be the sixth inning of a seven inning softball game in a town an hour away from where we lived, and I’d hear polka music coming from a Mazda Tribute pulling into the parking lot. Without a doubt, I’d know that Grandpa had arrived. There were numerous times where umpires would have to go ask grandpa to get off the field because he’d snuck on in order to get a better photo of the last play of the game. Most of the time, he’d take the picture he wanted before he left the field, and it was always a great one. Numerous times I was pitching the last inning of the game, simply closing the game that the other pitcher had already won. But because grandpa only saw that last inning, he’d tell the whole town that I’d been the one who’d won the game. “She struck ‘em all out,” he’d boast to all the guys over coffee the next morning. It might be true. I struck out the whole three batters I faced at the bottom of the line up against the last ranked team in the league. He either didn’t realize or didn’t care and was proud either way.

Because I went to a small high school, I had the privilege of being involved in everything. I didn’t have to possess natural talent in order to be involved, receive awards, or be recognized. One of the activities I joined was choir. “You know she learned to sing from me,” he’d tell a random bystander after a concert or musical, in which I played the least significant part available. I’d feel sorry that he pegged that to himself because he could actually sing a lot better than me. I also developed a love for writing, including journalism. As I continued my education and studied secondary education – language arts, I also studied journalism and some creative writing. He loved that I loved to write, and he loved to remind me that we not only had that in common, but our alumni university, too.

College Graduation from the University of Nebraska at Omaha

Grandpa wasn’t timid to write a thought-provoking editorial into the Omaha World Herald about something he felt passionately toward. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and while I tend to be a little more hesitant, he taught me that some things are worth being bold about.

Grandpa was funny – most of the time intentionally, sometimes just because of who he was. On his office bulletin board at his house there have always been pictures of us grandkids with some sort of humorous or mocking caption. The youngest, innocent grandkids always had cute, witty captions attached to their photos. However, the rest of us were often the victims of cynical humor. Through our high school years, there were many times Kaylea, Nathan, and I pushed our boundaries with authority. Growing up down the street from each other and within walking distance from Grandma and Grandpa’s house we did a lot of life together. Through it all, we learned that family sticks together, and we often defended one another’s “rights”, backing each other up even when we were in the wrong. (Kaylea and Nathan would tell you that they stuck together more, and I was a tattletale… all depends on who you get the story from.) However, I remember walking into my grandpa’s office and seeing photos of Kaylea and Nathan, maybe even Lilly, on the board under handmade “Wanted” and “Missing Persons” signs with arrows pointing to a picture of me and labeled “Last Seen With”. I think they’re still hanging there today.

One of grandpa's many pictures and captions.

Grandpa bragged of my successes and made light of my shortcomings. And, the beautiful thing about it is that my story is only the story of one person out of the many people Grandpa loved just as much as me.

He was creative, artistic, and inventive. He made his living by living on a dream. Seriously. A prayer, a dream, and a life-changing result. It’s called the Shepherd Scope. I didn’t get my singing abilities from him, and that’s a compliment to Grandpa. But, I’ll take a whole lot of what he did pass onto me, including a love for words and for writing, a passion for “right”, and the ability to smile and love others – without having to know their name.

Things I learned from my grandpa:

• How to look good shooting a gun.

• If you don’t happen to like me, pass me by.

• Dance to the beat of the tune that you like.

• Sing loudly, with pride, and preferably with a song turned up and the windows down.

• “Be quick”, but drive slow. Time will happen as it pleases.

• A picture is worth a thousand words.

• Think outside of the box and go with it.

• Write and talk about things that matter.

• It’s not when you get there that matters, but the fact that you made it.

• Talk to strangers, you might make their day.

• Pray to God and be obedient, and it will change your life.

• Time with the ones you love is irreplaceable and immeasurable.

I went home at the end of January to spend two weeks visiting family and spending time with Grandpa. During those two weeks a lot of things were happening medically with my grandpa that made the future of everything very uncertain. As I visited his room for the last time, the respiratory therapist was there. I’m not a medical expert and can’t tell you what the guy did, but he enabled Grandpa to speak so that I could hear his voice. And, you know what he said to me? 

He told me he loved me.

It was the first time I can remember hearing those words spoken to me from him, and as sweet as they were to my ears, I had already known it because he’d spent his life showing it to me. For that I give glory to God because in spite of the amount of sadness there is with the fact that he's gone, I'm left with sweet memories of a loving grandpa with a tender heart. 

One day each of is going to die. And, of course, it is only God who knows our hearts, for “people look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7). But, I pray that we have a hope and an assurance in our eternal security because of our faith being lived out in our everyday lives.

“You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God
and speed its coming…

But in keeping with his promise
we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth,

where righteousness dwells.”

2 Peter 3:11b-12a, 13

I look forward to that day because I’m fully aware that this life, my life, isn’t what it’s all about. I look forward to living in righteousness with God where there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Rev. 21:4). Where I will be in a place I am always praising and bringing forth glory to God. I love the reality of that future, as difficult as it is to understand now. However, I’m also fully aware that as a follower of Jesus Christ, I’m commanded to live in such a way here because of the overflow of love and grace God has shown to me.

“So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this,

make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him…

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

To Him be glory both now and forever! Amen.” 2 Peter 3:14, 17-18

I pray that as we live our lives, we fully accept the salvation at hand for us. That we live in accordance with the way God commands us to because God’s love is truly that great and His Spirit in us is that powerful. And, also, because we never know when our day is coming.

Please pray for:

• My family as they grieve and make logistical and financial decisions.
• Provision for the decisions that are made.
• Time for me to grieve, but also a peace of mind and heart as I process through the emotions of my grandpa’s death and not being with family during this time.
• The time I have left in Uganda this year to be fruitful in the relationships I’ve invested in and for the upcoming transitions.