Still

So, it was just Easter, and Wesley and I actually got up to go to church. As most of you know, I'm no church go-er. I have not gone since the day my grandmother Juannett passed away. It meant a great deal to me that I went with her since I was 5, that I not go until I had children. But, things change, and people have a way of making you feel safe when your most vulnerable. That's exactly what Wesley Polk did for me. She made me strong when there is no way I could have gone on my own, and then comforted me the entire service. That meant a lot because it meant she knew how hard it was for me, even if it has been 10 years.

About the church, well, it was a baptist church. Where as I'm used to Church of Christ and real formal, this church was very different. But, the pastor was great, and the people were so friendly, it made the whole over-whelming ordeal so much easier. Mark my words, I'm really looking forward to going back Next Sunday.

In Pastor brad's message, he talked about the story of Job, and how even when the Lord took away all he had blessed him with, Job still believed in Jesus and God's plan. The key word was STILL. That even through some tragic times, we should STILL praise the Lord because of his eternal love for us. No matter what we do in this body, we are totally forgiven, as long as we believe.

As long as we Believe. That's all.

I believe in a lot of things, and some of those things people wouldn't agree with me on (Come on, major league baseball, I cannot stand the DH rule!) But one thing is for certain, no one has had to threaten me, or make me, or even deceive me in to believing that Christ lived, and still lives. He rose from the dead, we know this is true. He was crucified, and abused just for us. And yes, he will come back one day. And I know he knows I have not been perfect, nor has anyone. He knows I have not been to church in a decade at least. He knows my strengths, my weaknesses, and above all, my sins. But he still loves me the same. STILL loves me the same.
That was a beautiful and powerful message. It hit hard and it brought a few tears with it. I began to swell up with emotion. Things I forgot came back. The way the smell of the pews mixed with my grandmother's perfume, the way she interacted with all the other wonderful ladies there, some of which looked after me while she was gone. The way she combed my hair, and even parted it the wrong way like I liked it. And last, but not least. The very last words she ever spoke to me, and maybe to anyone.

"No matter where you are, grandson, I will always be proud of who you are."

Words that sometimes leave the part of my brain that remembers to bring them up to comfort me when I have failed or believe I have done wrong. But they never totally leave. Not words that powerful. Words that powerful change people, make people cry when they think about them, and make the things one is worried about seem stupid.

I dont think there is a shadow of a doubt that my grandmother is proud of me. I have laid awake so many nights wondering if she is, or if she even has time to think about me as much as I think about her. Then, those words come back, "No matter where you are, son, I will always be proud of who you are."

And I relax, knowing she must have known I would be there, restless, thinking about it, and that's why she said it.