My Pop

Honestly, this might just be the messiest journal that I have ever put together, but I wanted to share some of my favorite memories and what I'm currently experiencing.

I grew up as a pastor’s grand kid. I was in church just about every Sunday, learning about Jesus. He would pick me and my sister up early on Sunday mornings and we’d go to church. I remember getting there early, turning all the lights on, setting things up, and just sitting downstairs with my grandparents as we colored Precious Moments pages. I remember communion Sundays, when Pop would fill the cups and cut the frozen bread up into little squares then give me the crust. It’s why I’ve always loved frozen bread. I remember my Pop singing several of the hymns. I remember him getting so into his sermons that he’d start to shout, which only showed the passion that he had for others to learn more about Jesus. And while I didn’t actually give my life to Jesus as a young child, my Pop instilled a knowledge of God in my heart, I just had to go and venture to find it.

He was always present in my life (along with my gram). They were always available to get us to our soccer games when my parents were going in several different directions to get us what we needed. He’d plow the snow or cut the grass. He’d come up to my house just to show us the snake he’d killed. He’d randomly come up to see if we could go fishing. He always had the door open for people to come in, and they’d leave feeling loved. He’d drive up to my house just to spend time with my dad. He’d call me on the weekends that I was home alone just to check on me. He’d call me into the living room to ask about what was going on in my life and how I was doing. He was there. Always.

He was an amazing example of Jesus, even in his final moments. A couple of weeks ago, he was cutting his church’s grass and his arm broke. He refused to leave or even get the attention that his arm required until the grass was cut and his sermon for that Sunday was preached.

About 2 months ago I spent the night at his house, and I slept on one of the recliners next to him. I wanted to be there with my family and I wanted to be able to get or do anything that he needed. I had never seen my Pop in so much pain. It broke my heart. But as he sat there in pain, he praised God. He prayed that God would use his pain, that it would not go to waste. He sat on his chair and just prayed to go home, and then asked me to pray the same for him. And as I sat on the floor in front of him, with my hand resting on his knee, I prayed one of the hardest prayers that I have ever prayed. I prayed for God to take my Pop home. I prayed for God to take one of my absolute favorite people home to Him.

On June 23rd, my family was in Pittsburgh to be with my aunt and uncle for the 16th anniversary of my Uncle Rod’s end of watch date. On that very same day, we got the news that my Pop went home to heaven. As soon as we got home, I went straight to my grandparents’ house to be with my family. I spent the night there and then we all sat around the kitchen table the next morning. The table that my Pop would play Yahtzee at every morning, the table we’d gather around to play Skip-Bo, the table my Pop would sit at while he cried and told me stories of God’s goodness, the table we’d run around when we’d have our water wars. My family sat around the table and talked about the celebration of life that we wanted to have for my Pop. We knew that we’d have to get his grandkids together to sing because he loved it. We talked about certain songs that my Pop loved, and then my gram mentioned one that had been encouraging to her for the past couple of weeks, basically reminding her that God COULD heal my Pop, but EVEN IF He didn’t, He was still so good. I recognized the song that she was talking about, and I knew that I had to play it.

They say sometimes you win some Sometimes you lose some And right now, right now I'm losing bad I've stood on this stage night after night Reminding the broken it'll be alright But right now, oh right now I just can't

It's easy to sing When there's nothing to bring me down But what will I say When I'm held to the flame Like I am right now

I know You're able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don't My hope is You alone

They say it only takes a little faith To move a mountain Well good thing A little faith is all I have, right now But God, when You choose To leave mountains unmovable Oh give me the strength to be able to sing It is well with my soul

I know You're able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don't My hope is You alone I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt Would all go away if You'd just say the word But even if You don't My hope is You alone

You've been faithful, You've been good All of my days Jesus, I will cling to You Come what may 'Cause I know You're able I know You can

I know You're able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don't My hope is You alone I know the sorrow, I know the hurt Would all go away if You'd just say the word But even if You don't My hope is You alone

It is well with my soul It is well, it is well with my soul

I could feel God there in that very moment, as my family cried and sang together. I watched as my Gram worshipped with her eyes closed, hands raised, and words sang out with total trust. I knew in that moment that we were all going to be okay. My Pop’s death was already in use, it was bringing our family closer together.

But God wasn’t just working through my family; He was also working through me. I’m not going to lie, the past few months have been a dry season for me. I’ve been distracted by work and by friends. I didn’t feel like I’d been growing at all. I wasn’t about to give up on believing in Jesus, but I wasn’t making the effort to really draw closer to Him. I was settling; I felt stuck. He’s seen these past few months of distraction, heart break, etc., and despite the fact that I haven’t been growing much, He still loves me. It reminds me of a poem that my Pop loved, The Footprints Prayer.

One night I dreamed a dream. As I was walking along the beach with my Lord. Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me, I looked back at the footprints in the sand. I noticed that at many times along the path of my life, especially at the very lowest and saddest times, there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it. “Lord, you said once I decided to follow you, You’d walk with me all the way. But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life, there was only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

He whispered, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you Never, ever, during your trials and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you.”

I wouldn’t have gotten through these months had He not been carrying me. Losing my Pop made me cling more to Jesus. Losing him has also opened my eyes even more to worship, because my moments in worship are done at the same time as my Pop. Worship is meant to be a lifestyle, not just a half hour of singing here and there, and the more I strive to live that lifestyle of worship, the closer I am to God and the closer I am to my Pop. I haven’t been to my Pop’s church in years, I needed to go elsewhere to grow more into who God made me to be, but it’s amazing to me that we get to worship together now, it’s helping to push me out of this dry season.

I’m still going to be honest with you though. Yes, I know my Pop is in a better place. Yes, I know he isn’t hurting anymore. Yes, I know that God is with me and He’s going to help me through this. BUT, that doesn’t mean that I’m not still grieving. There are parts of this process where I’ve laughed to the point of tears and I’ve had moments where all I could do is curl up and cry. And yanno what? That’s okay.

But I have to make the choice to get up from here and move forward. Will I sit back and let this keep me from growing? Or will I let this push me to grow more into who God made me to be and continue on with the work that my Pop was doing for God’s kingdom? I think there’s something so beautiful about the worship of a grieving soul. It’s saying that, even in the midst of your pain, that you know that God is still good, and it helps us to realign our focus from our hurt to our Healer. So I’m still grieving, but I’m doing it with hope and with joy, because I know that God will use this, and I know that I will see my Pop again one day, and that it will last for all of eternity.

As my Pop always said:

God is good!