Melissa

I often look to my role models to see what drives them and how they live accordingly. Their beliefs and actions are the greatest influence on what motivates me and how I go about my days. From a faith perspective I watched my paternal grandmother the most. Through my eyes she seemed to have everything figured out when it came to her faith in her Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. She was in church every (healthy) Sunday and (as far as I knew) her faith never wavered.

I paid attention through her end-days when different age-related illnesses affected her health. One being a respiratory illness that makes it hard to feel as though you’re getting a full breath. How your mind responds to the sensation, seems to affect your body’s response. I never saw her become anxious or gasp for breath. She just kept breathing and it was seemingly without concern. There was also talk of dialysis because her kidneys had started to misbehave. She let the medical team proceed with the planning process but once told me she wasn’t so interested in dialysis. An interesting perspective when one knows that skipping dialysis is not exactly “compatible with life.” It was pretty clear that my grandma had no fear of her last day and was content just. . . waiting.

I could not say I had faith quite like hers. The conviction that her belief was all she would ever need. I wanted to ask her if she thought maybe I could have faith like hers? Maybe after she was gone she could give me some sort sign to help me feel in such a way? But I wouldn’t ask one who spent a lifetime building her faith to try to figure-out-mine in her last of days.

When her last day came I was told it was just-as -peaceful as I had expected it to be. At her funeral I kept looking for something I had not asked for and something I might not even recognize. Until her Pastor said my grandma had requested he share a particular Bible verse with everyone. He felt the particular story she chose was important to be noted though she had not elaborated on its significance. Grandma left me with the Parable of the Good Samaritan. One of His most famous real-life stories for spiritual reflection. . . “Now which of the three men that passed by was a neighbor to the injured man?” . . . “Yes, now go and do the same.”

What was she trying to tell me? What is He trying to tell me? Is that part of my “job,” to figure it out? But there are so many interpretations that have been proposed for this parable AND for all the others! Time and time again things seem so hard. Or do I make them harder than they need to be? Maybe I just need to spend my life loving my neighbors and my faith will build itself. Maybe it’s as simple as that? As simple as. . . breathing.

Later that day we gathered at my mom and dad’s house; surrounded by family. Several of us were seated on the ground playing with the youngest great grandchildren. Probably because it feels good to celebrate new life as we pause to appreciate a life well lived. One of these littles was Hannah, our third and youngest child who will always be our “cherry-on-top.” She was just over a year old and chose that moment to take her very first steps and walk right into my arms with Paul by my side.

When I reflect on that day and put my thoughts on paper I realize God’s presence was there in a powerful way. I think that he wanted me to know that if I live each day to love my neighbor than I am loving Him. Start there and build upon this as I put effort into my faith and it WILL grow with each breath. . . with each step. . .