For my Gpa

*This video was played at my grandpa's funeral last Friday.  Even though I wasn't there in person, I still wanted to be part of his memorial service.  I ended up writing this poem for him and then asked one of our friends here (what a blessing they are!) to put this video together for me.

I love you, Gpa.  I think about you every day.  And probably always will.



Before my grandpa was my grandpa
he started out just a boy,
he told me he was a wild one,
his older brother he sure annoyed

But eventually all his energy
got channeled to the court,
where he soon became a super star,
the love of basketball his sport

People always tell me
how athletic he used to be,
they say he was competitive,
a trait surely passed on to me

My grandpa soon became a brave young man
through the internment camp and war,
yet never harboring any bitterness
toward the country he fought for

In the end, God used this time
to make him Chicago-bound,
never knowing that his future wife
was just waiting to be found

Her name was Yuki, a spunky one,
with a boisterous life-filled laugh,
their first date must've gone real well,
for she became his other half

Many looked at them and saw a pair
that seemed quite accidental,
one a crazy social girl,
the other so quiet and gentle

But beyond the surface their love ran deep,
it would carry them through the storms,
a picture of what marriage should be,
a gracious partnership they formed

Not long there after, their family began,
with joy, 3 little ones came
their clan would then become complete
with Carol, Marsha and Wayne

As a newfound father and family man,
my grandpa left his comfort zone
to take a risk and follow his dream
to have a business all his own

I can only imagine the courage this took,
the fear he must've felt within his heart,
yet he walked by faith and worked real hard,
a vending business he did start

But all these things, these stories I've heard,
all happened long before,
and although they make up who he was
to me, he's so much more

To me, he's just my grandpa
where an unexplainable bond was shared,
I think it started when I was young
and I would climb upon his chair

It was there that we would cuddle
and I'd find rest upon his chest,
we'd watch t.v. or have a talk,
just oblivious to the rest

My grandpa was my hero,
always someone I strived to be,
a friendly giant with a heart of gold
who I had never seen be mean

For he was patient, kind and sweet,
the most endearing man I've known,
he supported us in every way
his love so clearly shown

He was involved in all our lives,
constantly helping where he could,
he'd listen and be generous
his promises were good

You could trust in his character,
in his sweet and tender soul,
his quiet, faithful steadiness
has kept our family whole

I love the way he'd make me feel,
I know he loved me so,
and that is why my heart just aches,
why I'm sad to see him go

I know you're in a better place,
You're worshiping Your King,
a part of me delights for you,
yet I feel this painful sting

You see, I've never been more homesick,
more longing to be there,
but it's not because of Thailand,
for it doesn't matter where

The reason why I'm homesick
and it's hard to make it through,
is how long I now must wait
until again I am with you

When I stop to close my eyes
and I see your precious face,
I know that you are truly home
and now it's me that's out of place

Because this earth is quickly fading,
like a mist or morning dew,
with you now gone and me still here
I realize heaven's home with you

But until then, I'll cling to God
because in Christ there is no end,
and I'll trust in His promise that
soon in eternity we'll spend

My grandpa lived a long full life
and I feel blessed beyond all measure,
I had 27 years with him
that I'll forever treasure

Before I moved to Thailand,
my grandpa turned to me to say
in his deep, gentle, loving voice,
"Lauren, I'll miss you every day."

But now it seems the time has come
for me to say it back to him,
"I love you, Gpa.  I'll miss you, Gpa,
until we meet again."

His grace is sufficient

This morning I got the call.

Mom and dad were on their way to say goodbye to grandpa.  In just a few short hours, his condition had worsened to the point where they didn't know if he'd make it through the night.  Mom had called to tell me that it was happening and that it was time to let him go.

I've thought about this moment a lot.  And not just in the past couple of months.  My grandpa, my beloved tender-hearted soul, was the one person I was always afraid of losing.  Whenever a "mourning" song would come on the radio, tears would begin to fall as I thought about what it would be like to lose him.  Whenever I attended a funeral, my heart would break thinking about the day that it would be my grandpa's turn.  And when I boarded the plane to come to Thailand, his passing was the one exception I had made up in my mind to return home for.

But now that time is here.

And I'm not returning home.  And although this is not at all what I expected, God's grace has been sufficient.  His power made perfect in my weakness.

The decision to not return home wasn't an easy one, or a pretty one for that matter.  It was gut-wrenchingly hard with many emotions and tears to sort through.  It was something that Steven and I talked about for hours, something I prayed about endlessly, and something I felt was beyond my control.  And even though there were millions of thoughts running through my head at once, I kept coming back to just one.

I felt this slight and gentle nudge from the Lord... promising that He would walk with me through this process.  That I could trust Him to be my support and to be my source of strength.  I felt like God was telling me that He would mourn with me and that He would hold me like never before.

His grace is sufficient.

When my mom called to tell me the news, I didn't become hysterical.  I was somehow able to hold it together.  (This is not normal.)  To my surprise, I kept my composure and encouraged her as she prepared to say goodbye.  I told her that she was the only one who had been where grandpa was going, that she knew more than anybody the joy and peace he would soon feel.  I told her that now was the time to get grandpa excited to meet His King.  The peace I felt in that moment, the moment I had dreaded most of my life, was supernatural.  There was a deep calm within my heart that was then able to offer strength to my mom.

His grace is sufficient.  His power made perfect in my weakness.

About an hour later, it was my turn to say goodbye.  Mom tried to prepare me and told me that grandpa was pretty out of it.  He just wasn't responding and was really tired from having the whole family there.  So as my mom put me on speaker for him to hear, all I could get out was, "Gpa...".  There was just so much I wanted to say.  So many feelings happening within me all at once, I didn't know if I'd have enough strength to get anything else out.  But as I saw the opportunity slipping away, my mom interjected and said, "Lauren!  He's  s m i l i n g.  SO BIG.  He knows it's you."  And that was all I needed.  I was then able to say what I wanted to say, telling him how much I loved him and how much I would miss him every day.  I was able to tell him that I was excited for him to be with Jesus and that I couldn't wait to see him again real soon.  And as I kept talking, I could hear my mom and my aunts reacting in the background... "Oh my gosh, do you see that smile?  He hasn't smiled like that all day...  I can actually see all his teeth!  Lauren, he looks so happy."

What a sweet, sweet moment for me.

I always knew my grandpa and I shared this unexplainable bond.  How grateful I am that God allowed me to experience it one last time in such a significant way.  Thank you, Jesus.

So now, we wait.  I am dreading the next call to come, knowing that it'll probably mean he's gone.  But I am clinging to Jesus.  Thanking Him for the ways in which He has already given me moments of grace and then claiming His promise that He'll continue to do so.

May the love and grace of God rest upon me tonight and welcome my Gpa home...

Defining success.

Woa, where did the month of February go?  (Okay, I know... it was mostly spent enjoying the amazing 2 weeks we had with my parents here!  You can click here to see our many adventures...)  But really, it seemed like yesterday we were just celebrating Christmas and now all of a sudden March is here?!  Crazy how that happens.

Much to our surprise, as the time flew by us, we found ourselves catapulted into our second year in Thailand.  Just like that. Year One was down and we had suddenly crossed over into Year Número Dos. (See mom? I haven't forgotten all my Spanish...)  

You'd think the transition wouldn't have been that big a deal... I mean, we've transitioned lots of times before.  Marriage, Chicago, Roanoke, Thailand.  Going from Year One to Year Two should've be easy--we weren't even moving anywhere for goodness sakes!  But to be perfectly honest, it really hasn't been an easy transition.  It's been rather hard.

Because in Year Two...

I feel all this pressure.  

With a year under our belt, I feel like we should be so much further along.  It feels like now people are looking at us and thinking, "Gosh, they've been there a year and they haven't really done anything."  All of a sudden, it's like all this grace and patience was taken up from me and the only thing left was a critical eye.

You're still learning language?

You haven't seen anyone come to know Jesus?

Where's the successful business you were supposed to start?

What are you really doing there anyway?

It is no secret that Steven and I struggle with this need to feel productive.  We find worth, too much so, in what we're doing and how much we can "accomplish".  I make check lists just so I can see how many things I can cross off.  Steven builds things, knowing he'll have something beautiful to show off at the end of it.

But then God sent us to Thailand.  And convinced us that we must know Thai and we must know it well.  He's convicted us to take a long term approach and just "hunker down" and learn this difficult language.  Basically, He pulled us out of our comfort zone of productivity and placed us in one of the slowest processes of all.  There have been days that I look over at Steven and my heart just breaks for him.  I know he misses working with his hands.  I know he misses feeling like a leader and organizing projects and jobs.  I see how frustrated he gets, but how he never complains and just works harder.  And when I hear him pray to God every night for the language to "stick in his brain" while he sleeps, I know just how much faith this is taking for him.

I wish it could go faster.  

I wish we could've crossed "language learning" off our list a long time ago.

I wish we could write really cool newsletters with all this amazing stuff God's done through our ministry.

I wish Year Two didn't feel so ambiguous.

I wish Year One felt more successful.

And as I've been processing all of these unhealthy emotions and false expectations (yes, I've realized these thoughts are not good...), God led me to read this the other day:

"It is no accident you are where you are.  And it is not necessarily a problem that you are not where you assume you ought to be.  God is very much in control.  He works all things to the good of those who are "called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).  His vision for your life is his purpose.

God is using your circumstances to prepare you to accomplish his vision for your life.  Your present circumstances are part of the vision.  You are not wasting your time.  You are not spinning your wheels.  You are not wandering in the wilderness.  If you are "seeking first" His kingdom where you are, then where you are is where he has positioned you.  And he has positioned you there with a purpose in mind.

You are a success every day you get up and show up for duty.  Every day of faithfulness where you are, with what you have, is a successful day.  Rewarding? Maybe.  Successful? Absolutely."

*Above quotes were taken from a chapter in Andy Stanley's book, Visioneering

Goodness.  I felt like Andy was talking directly to me.  (Does that ever happen to anyone else?!)  It was exactly what I needed to jolt my brain and heart back into sync with God's.  It always amazes me how easily my pride gets in the way and consequently follows after man.  After reading that, I realized how consumed I was becoming with my own image and what others thought of me.  Because the reality is, God doesn't necessarily care what I'm doing, but rather in who I'm becoming.  God doesn't look back at our Year One and think of us as failures.  He sees that we have walked by faith and trusted in God's power probably more than ever.  He sees our hard work in language and counts it valuable for His Kingdom.  He hears Steven's prayers and is delighted that Steven's no longer relying on his own abilities, but on God's.  He doesn't see the year as a wasted year, but as a fruitful time where His children have grown in His likeness.

I think maybe, just maybe, God sees our Year One as a success.

But I don't think it ends with me and Steven.  The reason why I decided to publicly write my irrational thoughts (although I suppose that's what this entire blog is about...), is because I think this is something everyone struggles with.  Or at least can relate with.  We're always so busy looking ahead to the next best thing, that we often feel like where God has us now is just wasted time.  Far too often we measure our value and success based on the results we get.  But I think we need to challenge ourselves with this thought:  Success is remaining faithful to the process God has laid out for us.  It's less about the results and so much more about the process.  God can get the results He wants with or without our help.  What He's interested in is the sanctification process in all of us and the working it out day by day.  Is a mom successful the day her child graduates college?  No.  She's successful every day she gets up and loves, teaches, disciplines and serves her child.  It's not the end goal that's important, it's the every (little, mundane) day leading up to it.  I need to do a better job of living in the freedom that this brings.  The freedom in knowing that each day lived for the Kingdom of God--in the here and now, with whatever God has for me-- is the most successful day I could ever have.