Why I Almost Lost My Last Chance to Express Gratitude
On a clear day in January, my grandmother’s family and friends from near and far gathered around her gravesite. My uncle, who was the pastor giving the eulogy, read the words I had written six months earlier. He looked out at the small crowd, and I looked at the ground.
Hearing my words read aloud reminded me of all I’d lost when Pauline let out her last breath, but it also reminded me of all I’d gained.
I had almost missed my chance to tell my patient, serving, and faith-filled grandmother what she meant to me. What if I had kept those words to myself and saved them in secrecy until the days following her death?
At that thought, my heart lifted because I knew it was God who had worked in me and caused me to share my words of love and appreciation at the right time.
Staring out over a sea of gravestones, I let out a shaky sigh. Alongside my grief, gratitude and praise bubbled up like a released balloon headed toward heaven.
Examining my motivations
Six months earlier, I sat down at my computer and began to type. For days, thoughts of my grandmother had filled my mind. I couldn’t shake the need to communicate with her.
I faced a problem, though, because I couldn’t communicate with her. Well, not easily anyway. In 2016 she moved into a nursing home. Since then, I’d only been able to make the two-hour round-trip to see her once.
Her room, which she shared with another elderly woman, was cramped. She napped often. Although her mind remained sharp, her declining eyesight and hearing meant she struggled to understand the words spoken to her.
Despite the difficulties, I felt compelled to share my words with her the only way I knew how. And so I typed.
I wrote about how her life mattered. I wrote that her words and actions had irrevocably changed me by setting my feet on the path to follow Christ.
The letter wrote itself as though it were living inside me, waiting for a chance to leap out. Even so, I typed the last period and hesitated.
I’d never spoken this vulnerably to her before.
We had said the words “I love you” to each other many times, and we talked freely over board games and bowls of popcorn. But most of our talks happened when I was a child and not able to speak from a place of deep vulnerability.
I also considered whether I was writing these words for her or for me. Would my letter upset her? Would it cause her to long for her younger years when she could still walk around her country house picking blueberries and pruning her rose bushes?
Will delivering my words of appreciation be an act of service or one of selfishness?
Taking a risk before I lost the opportunity
I asked the questions but I knew I wouldn’t find the answers unless I delivered my letter of appreciation.
I printed it and stuffed the letter in an envelope. I had to take the risk and share the words of thanks that welled up in me or they would be lost.
Rather than being upset or embarrassed by my words, I heard from family members that she proudly shared the letter with many.
A type of relief washed over me. She received my words of gratitude before she went to be with Jesus, and I knew the time was drawing near.
Six months later, she did.
As my uncle planned her eulogy, he asked if he could read my letter aloud. This time, I harbored no doubts about whether I should risk exposing my heart.
The time is short
1 Thessalonians characterizes the coming of the Lord as “a thief in the night” and as “labor pains” that “come upon a pregnant woman” (1 Thess. 5:2-3).
Paul urges us, “So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober” (1 Thess. 5:6).
At the end of his paragraph, he gives us a takeaway: “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing” (1 Thess. 5:11).
What does the day of the Lord have to do with encouraging one another? My grandmother’s passing reminded me that our days are short. We don’t know the day or hour we will encounter God face-to-face, so Paul tells us to encourage each other while we have time on this side of eternity.
If I’m ever hesitant to vulnerably share my words of thanks again, I’ll think of my grandma and remember that I can’t afford to hold back an offering of gratitude.
Meet Lisa Dean
Lisa Dean is a writer passionate about helping people cling to the peace only Jesus can provide. She writes and creates resources to invite readers on a journey of cultivating and claiming the peace of God by reframing everyday life in light of our eternal reality. She resides in Knoxville, Tennessee with her husband and two children. When she’s not reading books to her kids, you can find her sipping coffee, striking a yoga pose, or trying out new recipes in the kitchen.
Where to find her . . .
Begin Within is a series to inspire a year-round lifestyle of gratitude that will impact not only your own life, but the lives of your neighbors as well. Gratitude is a theme we talk about often around here because it ties so closely into other missional living rhythms. Practicing gratitude reminds to keep our hearts soft and expectant and our eyes open. Therefore, the more we embrace gratitude, the easier it becomes to truly see our neighbors and where we can join what God is already doing in our neighborhoods.
If you would like to contribute to Begin Within, you can find the submission guidelines here.
Creating Ripples
If you would like to cultivate rhythms in addition to gratitude that will empower you live on mission in your neighborhood, check out Cultivating a Missional Life: A 30-Day Devotional to Gently Help You Open Your Heart, Home, and Life to Your Neighbors. This small book will help you make a big impact in your neighborhood as you learn to let missional living flow from the inside out. Get the 30-day missional living challenge free when you purchase the book.
