Grace Beyond the Grave

This morning I am thinking about God’s faithfulness and grace.  With the exception of weddings, funerals, and an occasional special program, one of my sisters had not been to church…any church…for more than twenty-five years.  After my brother, Andy, passed away in July, she began attending church with me regularly.  In fact, there have been a couple of Sundays when she has gone to church even when I did not.  As I would sit next to her during worship, I could discern how the Word was reaching her heart, drawing her in, and changing her.  More than once I thought, “I wish Andy could see this!”  Yesterday, when the pastor extended an invitation to those who wanted to accept Christ, my sister went forward.  I felt my heart caught in a tug-of-war between great joy and a haunting sorrow.  The same Word that had been speaking to me for weeks in a still, small voice was suddenly resonating loudly in my mind:  “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” (John 12:24).  This truth that I had been resisting, ignoring, repressing, and rejecting rose up in me like an ocean, and I finally opened my soul and let it flow out through tears of acceptance.  Though it still seemed much too soon to my finite mind, Andy’s purpose and calling in this earthly life had been accomplished.  As we got into my car after church, my sister said, “I want to show you something.”  She reached in her purse, which I noticed was not the favorite Michael Kors bag she usually carries.  She shared, “I don’t know why, but this morning I decided to wear a different purse.  I was digging around in it, and I found this.”  She held in her hand a picture that Andy had given her over twenty-five years ago.  She turned the picture over and handed it to me to see what he had written.  As I started reading, I could hear his voice in the tender sentiments.  I was in awe upon reading the closing.  It said, “Please come back to the Lord.  Love, The Preacher.”  I sat silent, embracing the moment of clarity and understanding that for all the impact and influence Andy had during his life, it is nothing to be compared with how God will use the “seed” of his death as a catalyst to bring forth miracles.  An abundant harvest of “much fruit” from Andy’s prayers, faith, service, and love has begun to manifest and will continue in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.  I know that I no longer need to say, “I wish Andy could see this.”  Rather, I can say, “He must really be loving this!”  I believe he’s smiling and rejoicing now.  I also believe he will yet be preaching messages of God’s faithfulness and grace beyond the grave.