This week is going to be one of those weeks to be sure. Yesterday I received a phone call from my dad letting me know that my grandma (the one I call Omi) has started to walk down the road that will ultimately lead her into Jesus’ arms. It could be days. It could be weeks. It could even be months. There’s only one person who knows and he’s the reason we can fear no more.

Saying goodbye to a loved one is one of the hardest things we can do as men and women. Whether it’s a parent or grandparent, sibling or child, none of it is easy. We like to think that watching a loved one who’s been sick for years fade into the arms of Jesus would be easier than losing a loved one suddenly. But that’s just not true.

One of my many flaws as a man is that I like to never be out of control. Death and the process of dying is something that none of us can control and it’s painful. Today we sit and wait. Now in our waiting we can tremble in fear. We can be terrified about what this process will mean. We can crumble into a pile on the ground at the pain of the loss we’re about to experience. But that’s not who we are. We stand today with no fear. We will be sad as we watch our loved one fade away. We will cry as those favorite memories we shared surface in our minds. But we will fear no more.

Today I end this first Music Monday of 2020 with a prayer. It’s a personal prayer and you don’t have to even read it but for me writing it is part of my own journey of faith. Be blessed my friends and have a wonderful 2020!

Jesus, today as we wait for the inevitable we reminisce through the memories that have shaped this very moment. We remember the Christmas box from Germany that we would open every Christmas Eve. We remember the way Omi used to butter the sandwich bread before packing us lunches to take on the long semi truck rides every summer. We remember mashing apples into apple sauce and the way she always would scold my grandpa saying in her stern voice, “Charles stop that!” We remember the way she loved her dogs and complained about his cats. We remember how there was nothing outside of her ability to love and forgive and graciously hold us close. Today we trust you. We don’t understand the fullness of what’s happening. We are still wrestling with the reality of what these next few days, weeks or even months will bring. But we trust and we lean on you in hope. Today Jesus, I promise to stand firm with no fear. No fear of what tomorrow will hold. No fear of what death might bring each of us. I promise that despite the memories and even the searing pain of the loss we will not lose hope because we are different. Because of your grace and love and mercy we will not fear though the earth give way and the mountains be moved to the heart of the sea we will not lose hope. Because Jesus you are our hope and our strength and our courage. Be with us in this journey until it becomes reality. Amen.

Death, my friends, has been swallowed up in victory – for He is risen!