To Honor You, My Pawpaw, My Hero

It was you who taught me grace.

Unmerited favor.

Undeserved, yet loved. 

In my sweats, your princess.

And we danced.

No matter where we were or who was watching or what they said, we didn’t care.

We danced and the world stood still right there in your arms, on your toes, in your embrace and it was all okay.

And you fought for me…

You were the warrior who stood over my grieving heart the night God prepared me for the man who would sweep me away

You prayed until all foes were defeated, arrows were thrown, javelins and spears pierced the enemies and my Travis won my heart

On your knobby weak, hard working, coal mining, knees…you fought for me.  You fought for so many.  In a church basement, a prayer closet, at the altar.

You interceded until your seed not only succeeded, but defeated.

The Christmas memories of prayer, the preaching about your great-grandbaby Zia who would be healed, the running the aisles when the spirit moved upon you, and when you stood with men who fought wars.  You were so proud to serve.

You took care of us all and would give when you had nothing to give at all.

I especially loved it when you would hand your teeth to my boyfriends and draw me silly pictures on my cards

I got mad at you once for scooting up close to the base when I was up to bat, but that was the only time

And I remember you getting mad at me and breaking my heart when you slapped my leg for not listening. Only remembering now there was a moving car and you were only protecting me

I prayed you would live to see my children and you did.  You carried my little girl around a church to show her off, as you did many babies at church.  But mine was yours and no one else could get a chance at her, cause you had her.  You wrestled with my son when I would hold my breath that you would be kicked in the difibulator.  You didn’t care.  You would do it anyway.

You would do many things anyway.  Wouldn’t he mamaw?  You would go to Hardees and Priddys and Walker Machinery.  You would deliver Mine Parts and mow grass and carry trash. You would bring home treats and shovel snow and all when you should have stopped…but you just couldn’t, because you were a warrior.  One who could not be stopped.

How did this happen?  How is it time?  But it is.

Four and ½ months ago, something beautiful happened.  God gave me a baby boy.  Unexpected.  Unplanned. Unprepared. I lost all control. And miraculously he was here.  My Joshua Clinton, named after you.  You were so proud and he will be honored to have your name.  He lives.  You do not.  Not here on earth.  But you live now and he begins to fill your shoes. 

The day before you left this earth, in a moment that will stand still in our hearts, you opened your eyes, reached out your arms and held and kissed that baby.  In that moment, you passed your mantle.

Like Moses, you have prayed prayers that you did not get to see come to pass this side of eternity.  You cleared the path for Joshua to enter the Promised Land.  You cleared the path for all of us. You prayed the first prayer, you preached the first sermon, you planted the first church.  We, your children, your grand children, your great grandchildren will walk on paths you cleared and proclaim on strong knees that Jesus is Lord!

It is here in this moment that I lose control.  And the miraculous takes place again.

I feel grace sweep over me like rain.

I feel a dance coming on…one we will share on streets of gold

I feel sad, yet I know no matter how I feel

And I am free in this moment

Free because of the Jesus you gave us…when you first made that commitment to follow him in the back seat of that car many years ago…

What if you never prayed that prayer?

What if you never preached that sermon?

What if you never prayed for me, for those in this room?

But you did.

Thank you. I love you.

A couple of weeks ago God led me to Hebrews 12:1-2

It reads,

Therefore since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up.  And let us run with endurance (like Papaw) the race that God has set before us.  We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. 

You won the race.  Your knees are no longer hurting.  You ran right through those gates on streets of gold and the crowds of witnesses cheered you on, as do we!  You did it papaw…You kept your eyes on Jesus.  You are home. &  Today, we  celebrate you! Today, we put on your running shoes and we follow behind!