How He Loves

Two Sundays ago, we were singing the song “How He Loves” at church. We had just gotten to the chorus and I was trying to sing…

And oh

How He loves us oh

Oh how He loves us

How He loves us oh

Except that I started to cry and I couldn’t choke out the words. I was reflecting on my emotional reaction later and realized I haven’t been feeling very loved by God. It has been a hard few months (well, years) with family struggles, ministry struggles, and personal struggles. I am tired. I am sad. I am feeling beaten.

I had the opportunity to process with some dear friends last week how I was feeling. I know the truth. I know God loves me. I could speak out theological truth, but was feeling like my experiences didn’t reflect what I knew to be true.

Toward the end of the week, I was able to start to articulate the list of evidences of God’s love in my life in the last few years. I had the whole list of blessings I had blogged about several weeks ago as a starting point. My experiences did reinforce the truth I know in Scripture- God loves me.

This weekend, while in Denver, I heard from my parents that my Grandma was declining quickly. They weren’t sure she would still be here when I got back Monday morning. I was grieving her loss and wanted the opportunity to read her the birthday card I had picked out for her. When I had left for Denver, I had told her I would see her on Monday and tell her about the wedding. I pleaded with God for that opportunity.

When I landed in Orange County on Monday morning, I got a text from my Dad that Grandma was still breathing. We got home about 10 and I rushed to her room. I was able to hold her hand and read her my card and tell her stories. While she couldn’t respond verbally, it appeared she was trying to communicate with me as I read and talked.

I sat with her about three hours. I had just called Korean Air to change my ticket (I was supposed to fly back to Thailand tomorrow morning) and had brought my lunch back into Grandma’s room. I noticed her breathing had slowed. I pointed out to Mom that the hymn playing on the CD was The Holy City, a hymn about heaven when everything will be made right.

At that moment, I saw Grandma exhale and Mom and I both commented about her slowed breathing. Dad walked in and we watched Grandma take her last breath. Mom, Dad, and I flew to her bedside holding her hands and rubbing her arms. Mom felt Grandma’s pulse fade in her wrist and then in her neck. Then she was gone from us and with Jesus.

My Grandma was an incredible woman. For those of you privileged to know her, I wouldn’t need to say anymore. She was generous, hospitable, thoughtful, independent, detailed, determined, silly, and spunky. She made people feel so special. She loved Jesus and was devoted to her family (which included many who were not related to her by blood). I had the honor of living with her for a couple of years during university and always looked forward to my time with her when I was in the States. I know she was incredibly proud of me, because of my faith and how that has been expressed in service. My Grandma loves me.

So does my Heavenly Father. He loves me. Oh, how He loves me. I saw clear evidence of this yesterday as I was with my Grandma I love so much as she went to meet Jesus, who she loves so much.