This one is for you, Grandma.

On Wednesday, October 27 my Grandma Larsen passed away peacefully at home. Matt and I were in bed when I received 3 text messages in a row – it was around 10:45 PM. I always get nervous when my phone rings or I get a text at night. My heart started pounding as I read the words from my dad. “Becca, call me ASAP.” I called Dad right away and he told me the news. Shock. I’ve never had anyone close to me die. I always wondered how I would react. I didn’t know what to say except, “How sad.”

About an hour and a half later it finally hit me. Grandma was gone. As the tears finally fell, I prayed for our family and for God’s Peace that passes understanding. I also prayed for courage because something was shifting in my heart.

As I’ve been thinking about my Grandma and what I want to share with the world about her, I’ve had a really hard time coming up with one word to describe her. She had an air to her that was – well, so her. I can see her in my mind now making comments under her breath about something, waving away a camera, and telling funny stories. The silly side of her personality reminds me a lot of my mom. And my mom’s silly side – which is much more exaggerated that my grandma’s – I see in me. I love that.

Her stories are now my greatest memories. She loved to tell me about the funny things I did as a kid. Like bouncing Aaron on his head in a corner of her home while she was babysitting us. And then there was the time that she fed me rotten black olives. She would always end the story by pointing out that you can’t tell when black olives are rotten. There was also one story she told me and my cousin Allison when we were out playing mini-golf several years ago. It was about the first time she bought a tampon – I’ll spare the details, but it was one of the funniest stories I’ve heard – especially because it was a story from Grandma.

It’s still hard to believe that Grandma is gone, but I am holding fast to the promise that if we believe in Jesus we will spend eternity together in Heaven.

Despite that promise, my heart has been unsettled since her death. I keep thinking about how short life is and how we need to make the most of every moment we have on earth. Why does it have to take a death to make that truth more real? It shakes me to the core to think that maybe I am not using the life God has blessed me with to its fullest potential. How many people have I told about the love of Jesus today? What about yesterday? What about last week? Shouldn’t my life me radiating His love? Shouldn’t people talk about me after I leave – about how there is something different about me – and want to know what it is. Shouldn’t I be sharing Christ’s love with my family and friends – even strangers - in a real and authentic way that challenges them to pursue a deeper relationship with Christ? I cringe at the thought of the answer to some of these questions. And I cringe even more thinking that it took the death of my beloved Grandma to wake me up.

Here is what keeps me up at night – I am feeling quite challenged and convicted right now, but what if I wake up tomorrow and am the same me. What if when the grief begins to lift and life goes back to normal I don’t change. What then will it take for God to get a hold of me? This is why I pray for courage. To take one day at a time and to trust that if I’m eager He’ll take my hand and guide me to – and through – the dreams He has for me.

So, to my Grandma – I love you. I love you. I love you. Thank you for what an amazing Grandma you were to me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for all that you were. Thank you for all the wonderful memories you’ve left with me. And although we are all grieving our loss, we know you are now free. Mom said it best – “Grandma, you finally won the coverall, you’re in Heaven.” I can’t wait to see you again. Bingo!