“I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you.”
-Philippians 1:23-24
The only time I have ever heard someone cry out to the Lord to take them home was when I was 12. My grandmother had been sick and hospitalized for a very long time. During the hospitalization she had become very weak and trouble with walking. I distinctly remember that I was with her and my uncle, and my uncle was trying to help her get from the car to the house. While attempting to go up the one step, she fell, and she cried out that she just wished the good Lord would take her home. As I watched my uncle try to help her up, I was terrified. I was 12, and all I could think was that I didn’t want my grandma to die, and it scared me that she was willing to go to her Heavenly home. I was so scared and upset that instead of helping my uncle get her in the house, I went for a walk until enough time had passed that she was safely inside and feeling what my pre-teen mind conceived as better. That walk felt like the longest chunk of time, but the reality is that I just walked around the block. I was thankful that when I got back she was in the house and in her chair. This sight gave me the calm that I needed in that moment, and it assured me that my grandma was still with me.
Fast forward A LOT of years. During those years, she has since passed, but it was nearly 17 years later following a long health battle. My grandma was a warrior, but even as she fought valiantly, I would sometimes think back to those words. As an adult, I now realize that it wasn’t really that she was ready to go to Heaven when I was 12. Her cry to Jesus was more out of embarrassment from a fall, feeling physically weak, and feeling emotionally drained. Now, I know that we say things in the heat of the moment, and we often do not fully comprehend exactly what we are saying when we cry out to Jesus.
So how does this tie back to the scripture? Well, it’s been over 31 years, and I had never shared that story. Frankly, as far as I know only me, my grandmother, and my uncle ever knew it happened, and I’m not sure they remembered it. Earlier this week, upon discussing grief with a friend, I shared part of the story. Then today at Mass, the scripture at the beginning was shared. It made me think of their family’s current grief and my grandmother’s plea to the Lord all those years ago. Because of those circumstances, it made me think of losses in a different light. In many ways, those who are suffering from chronic or terminal illness, have lost most of their loved ones, etc may feel the words that St. Paul said: “My desire is to depart and be with Christ; for that is far better.” While I would like to live on this earth as long as possible (come on 100!), I have been around those who have come to peace with what is happening to them, and they mean it when they are not afraid and are ready. And who am I (are we) do deny them their joy and peace? To echo the sentiments of St. Paul, having our loved ones here in the flesh is more for us than them. Again, I am speaking of cases where our loved ones are terminally ill, have had long health battles, etc. I do not want to ever sound insensitive because to quote The Crucible, “Life, woman, life is God’s most precious gift,” and I believe that God wants us all to have a life well lived here on earth surrounded by those who love us.
But I think I finally get what my grandmother’s intentions in her words were. She may not have gone to church, but she knew her faith, and she knew her Bible. She believed that when it was time that she would be reunited with her husband, parents, and siblings and made whole in the likeness of God. When crying out to Jesus so many years ago, she was showing a desire to be with Christ, but she also knew that we still needed her. As I grow older, I’m starting to realize that a lot of losses can feel similar. While we want our loved ones with us in earth and feel like we need them in the flesh, we can take a lot of comfort – even though we are hurting and sad – in knowing that they are with Jesus, and that the end is just the beginning.
XOXO,
The Great Kaysby
The Great Kaysby 