(Some words I was privileged to share at Grandpa's homegoing gathering.)
As strong as Grandpa was, he always had a soft spot for his grandchildren. His hands were rough and work-worn from years of plowing and repairing, but they were gentle enough to play "This Little Piggie went to market" with a granddaughter's toes. And as busy as the farm kept him, I remember many afternoons sitting with him in the yard, eating Grandma's cookies, drinking pop, and throwing frisbees for the dog.
I remember Grandpa as a man who was always moving, always fixing, always working on the next thing. But I remember vividly one Sunday afternoon, sitting in the living room with Grandpa. I couldn't understand why he wasn't out in the fields. It was a beautiful day. I asked him, "Grandpa, why aren't you working?" And he said, "It's the Lord's Day, and God says that today should be a day of rest." I guess as a farmer he understood better than most that the earth is the Lord's. The wind and the rain that could destroy or prosper the fields were not in Grandpa's control no matter how hard he toiled. They were the Lord's. And so was he.
I am so grateful for the faith that has been passed down to me by both of my grandparents, which I now have the privilege to share with their great-grandsons. A heritage of diligence, compassion, integrity, and wisdom. A heritage of unselfish love and unwavering faith in Jesus Christ as the Savior and Lord of their lives.
Through my own tears of grief, I have immeasurable joy that Grandpa stands today in the presence of His King, and he is whole. For him to live was Christ, and his death has brought him great gain. So well done, Grandpa. I know your faithfulness has brought you great reward as you stand in the presence of your Lord. We'll miss you, but you have given us a lifelong testimony of faith in Christ that we will forever hold in our hearts and will share with our children. Thank you, Grandpa.