My grandma went to be with Jesus last month, on April 17th, 2012. I haven't written about her, or blogged about anything else for that matter, because...well, because I haven't been so inclined. I've been more inclined to hermit. But when I think about grandma and miss her, I find I've been thinking more about things I've been taught and believe, but have never really thought about before. Things like the fact that my grandma isn't dead...she is alive. Her body was left behind, set aside like a coat taken off when you've come into a warm house from the cold, but SHE is alive and in the presence of Jesus. I can't see her or talk to her or sit and crochet with her anymore, but that doesn't mean that she isn't living and thinking and feeling and worshiping. And that brings tears, more than the fact that she is gone.
"Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die...'"
John 11:25-26






