The Wood Between

For those of you who have read the Narnia series, you will recognize this title. The Wood between the Worlds was a place where the children went with their magic rings and from that place they could jump into other pools to go to different worlds. In this placeĀ  everything was slow, and quiet, almost sleepy. A deep contentment settled over the children and made it hard for them to remember where they had come from or what they were there to do.

Since Saturday, my grams has been in the wood between. She suffered a massive stroke sometime Saturday morning and has only had brief moments of consciousness since. She seems peaceful, and her few responses to us are loving and comforting. She seems to be waiting in the wood between. Waiting for Jesus to come and take her by the hand and lead her into the pool that goes to heaven.

Gram is 83 and has suffered from dementia for the past several years. She has steadily lost her memory and much capability to take care of herself. It is not unusual that she would be in critical physical condition at this age. But death is a thief at any age. We were made for more. And it hurts to watch her slowly pass. It hurts to know that she will be gone, that we won’t have the joy of her presence any more.

On the other hands our hearts sore with hope. Because we know this isn’t the end. This is the wood between. She will soon be home and will be celebrating with her Savior a life well-lived. And one day we will also join her in that celebration. So no matter how much pain we feel, the joy supersedes it. The hope, the expectation, the anticipation trumps grief.

I’m so grateful to have the gift of grieving for my grams. Because that grief is the evidence of her incredible impact in my life. Words fail me to express all the amazing things I have learned from my grams. And trying to describe the way she loved me is impossible. No one has loved me more or better. No single human has influenced me more.

Grams loved well. She lived fully. She reached out to the downtrodden. She offered hope. She taught faithfully. She sang songs of worship spontaneously. She prayed without ceasing. She welcomed new challenges. She cast her cares upon Jesus. She helped the helpless. She championed the overlooked. She stood up to institutions. She sought after Jesus. She honored God. I am blessed to call her my grams! And I am blessed to have shared her with so many other MK’s who also knew her as a “grandma.” Her legacy of blessing is far reaching, and for that I am grateful beyond words.



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