I work out my theology as I try to explain the realities of life and death to our girls.
They just take these painful things at face value. Grandpa was sick, but he's not sick anymore. He's in heaven now, so he can't come visit us.
We will miss him, but he's happy with Jesus.
This past weekend, with many, many others who were touched by his beautiful life and ministry, we honored the man most called, "Pastor Sid."
It was Elizabeth who first so aptly described the purpose for our weekend away. You're going to "Grandpa's goodbye party," she said matter-of-factly.
And I knew she was right.
God is good. Pain, suffering, hard and loss are real.
Husbands, Fathers and Grandpas die..."Should we send him a Bible?" they ask.
No honey, He has the Word Himself.
I want to give them an explanation. To reason it out and integrate it. And while I grapple to find the words, they simply see the truth.
Grandpa is where he most wants to be. With his beloved Savior. Whole. Forever.
Why wouldn't we throw him a party?
He was a man, worthy of the honor he received. A man who lived out his faith every day and gave glory to God through every mountain and valley of his life. A husband who honored his wife and wooed her with a pure love during every season of their marriage. A father who cherished his children and grandchildren, and prioritized his family, while still making everyone he met feel like an old and treasured friend. He lived a life of service, always drawing in, loving, caring and encouraging. Every day he acted a lot like Jesus.
So we celebrated him. We cried over our loss, not his. And we were blessed to see first hand the far reaches of his ministry and the impact of his life. Truly, heaven celebrated.
And as the day drew to a close, we all agreed...
it was the best sad day ever.