As I read the reading for today’s word, the following passage jumps out at me…and I think of my Grandpa Hill. (Maybe, coincidentally, it’s because I spoke of him today when Pastor Max said he was going to see Music Man. I explained that Harold Hill was my grandpa! (And Harold Hill Sr was my great-grandpa!) Anyway, I digress. Here’s the passage from The Message.

¹³ No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he’ll never let you be pushed past your limit; he’ll always be there to help you come through it.

Corinthians 10:13

The common understanding as I have heard it is: “God will never give you anything you can’t handle.” And the person I learned that from as a child… my Grandpa.

I wrote the following as a paper when I was in high school. I can still pictured it printed out on a dot matrix printer with the red ink from my teacher offering his condolences on losing such a special bond. Here’s what I think of when I read that text. God doesn’t leave us alone during our tests, temptations or tribulations. He is right beside us.

A Journey’s End

My maternal grandfather was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1965. By the time I was born, nine years later, he was confined to a wheelchair. As I began my first year in school as a kindergartner, he lost the use of his arms, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down. Even though he was physically paralyzed, his mental state was as sharp as ever. He always possessed his wit and humor during his tribulation.

As I sauntered out of my grandparents’ family room after a visit with my grandpa, the usual clicking sound from my grandfather echoed through my ears. The MS was now attacking his vocal chords, his lungs, and his heart. I turned back and walked toward his bedside, where he was still clicking to get my attention again. I leaned over the hospital bed rail to hear his quiet forced voice. “I love you, Missy,” he whispered. My moist eyes quickly glanced at his deteriorating body. My swollen throat whispered back reassuring him that I loved him, too. As I was walking out of the room once again, I glanced back to see his glazed eyes trying to focus on the distant television set.

The next day, I left for school with my usual routine; I kissed my mom good-bye and nodded, reminding her of our “emergency pact.” My school day began with morning prayers. My eighth grade teacher automatically added my grandpa’s name to our prayer intentions each day. After our prayers, we moved on to religion class where we diligently planned our confirmation ceremony. Being a warm September day, our classroom windows were open allowing the fresh air to circulate in our otherwise stuffy classroom. The sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance. Little did I know, those sirens would affect the rest of my life.

Later, during lunch time, my teacher told me not to take the bus home from school because my mother had called and left a message for me to walk with my younger brother and sister to my grandparents’ house, which was only three blocks away. I smiled as the tears danced from my eyes. I remembering uttering that everything was over, but thankfully, my mom had remembered to activate our plan to have us walk to grandma’s house if something ever happened to grandpa. Leaving my teacher, I darted to the bathroom and locked myself in a small stall. I stood there crying for what seemed to be an eternity. Suddenly, I heard gentle footsteps, so I emerged from my cocoon of isolation to face my teacher once again. She told me not to think the worst and to be optimistic. The day dragged on, leaving me unable to concentrate on my studies. The silent tears streamed from my eyes throughout the afternoon.

Finally, the dismissal bell rang and I rushed to meet my brother and sister. We slowly walked down the vacant street. The weather had appropriately turned to overcast. As soon as we turned the corner and the comforting view of my grandparents’ house came into focus, I knew the worst had happened. Cars lined both sides of the gloomy street. My sister, my brother and I walked with our hands tightly squeezed together. Unfamiliar faces stood on the front lawn comforting my mother who was waiting for us. As we approached, my mom shuffled towards us. She didn’t have to say a word. We held each other for a few minutes while the tears flowed freely from our eyes.

I felt so lonely as I walked into the old house. I avoided talking to my grandmother as I didn’t know what to say. As I walked into the family room looking for a comfortable reminder of my lost best friend, I noticed all the furniture had been rotated. The hospital bed had vanished. She shelves of medical supplies had been removed. The room was now foreign to me as was the emptiness I my heart.

My grandpa and I had always been the best of friends; I couldn’t imagine my life without him. We would spend hours upon hours together talking. He would help me with my math homework, teaching me all of the short cuts. He would tell me stories of his youth. We would watch the Chicago Cubs’ baseball games together. He would teach me card games. I knew I would sincerely miss our bonding time.

My grandfather taught me so much about life. He taught me never to take anything for granted. He firmly believe that God has a purpose for everything that happens while we are living on earth. He used that faith to accept the disease and to live life to its fullest taking into account his physical limitations. Grandpa also demonstrated a great passion towards everyone regardless of his or her weaknesses or instabilities. I will always remember my grandfather’s ability to look optimistically at any problem, and his love for life will always live on in my heart.

Today’s PRAYER : Faithful God, you guide us and grow us in every season. In good times and difficult times, help us to learn, grow, and in remembering our baptisms, become more like Christ each day. Amen