Where is God When Death Brings New Life

I did not grow up in church. In fact, my dad used to joke that his "church" was the church of the bedroom over the garage. In other words, he would sleep in on Sunday mornings in his bedroom, which was located over the garage.

My dad's parents were church goers, and I believe they were/are Christians. My dad's dad died in 1994. My grandmother, whom I have had many conversations with about God, turns 95 this month.

My mom also did not grow up in church. And while both of her parents were wonderful people, I don't think they ever had a relationship with God.

I gave my life to Christ when I was 24 years old, after attending church seriously for the first time for about 6 months. So in the last 9-plus years, I have had many opportunities to talk to my family about God. But because they are my family, I have found them to be the hardest people to share my faith with.

In August 2007, my grandfather (my mom's dad) became very sick. He went in the hospital and was diagnosed with encephalitis. The doctors never were sure what caused the infection in his brain. My grandfather had spent his life helping people and being a do-it-yourself kind of guy. His brain failed him. He became very confused and barely recognized his family.

At this point, I started to try to tell him about Jesus. I would ask him any time I was alone with him if he knew Jesus, if he knew what it meant to be a Christian. But his brain wasn’t working right and he never really responded to my questions. And as his sickness progressed, when he developed pneumonia, and it was clear that he wouldn't recover, I begged him to accept Christ, whispering to him between his labored breaths. Although I won't be sure this side of Heaven, I don't think he ever heard me. My grandfather died on Sept. 27, 2007.

During this time, my grandmother (mom's mom) was suffering from Alzheimer's, although she and my grandfather hid it well. It became obvious how much my grandfather had taken care of her. She couldn't take care of herself, and she entered a nursing home to live permanently.

When my grandfather died, she asked me to have my pastor perform the funeral for my grandfather. She asked for a "Christian" ceremony, and that is what was done.

Because of this, because of her new interest in things spiritual, we began to have conversations about God when I would see her. For Christmas in 2007, I got her a Bible. I also wanted to do a Bible study with her over the summer of 2008, but her Alzheimer's progressed to the point where her short-term memory loss made that an impossibility.

Still, when we would get together, she would talk to me about God. She was really thinking about it. And she knew where I stood in my faith. I never kept that from my family, I just never really talked in depth about it.

A few weeks ago, I went to visit her in the nursing home and we had the best conversation about God that we had ever had. She really had been thinking lots about God and heaven and Christianity. But I did not press her salvation. I listened and talked to her and continued to pray. Even other Christian friends added her to their own prayer lists.

She asked me where I thought Grandpa was now. She wondered aloud about Heaven and what happens to you when you die. So even in my grandfather’s passing, God used that experience to reach my grandmother on a level she had not been reached before.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, my grandmother had a stroke. It wasn't surprising, and it wasn't catastrophic. She had some slight paralysis in her right side. I went to the hospital to see her on Tuesday, March 17, to really spend some time with her. She was very aware but mumbling and frustrated. I decided to read to her from Reader's Digest.

The story I read to her was about a woman and her children who were trapped in flood waters. After their miraculous rescue, they gave the credit to God. Despite the stroke that had struck my grandmother, God was speaking directly to her through her circumstance and even in a randomly chosen story from a magazine.

I finished reading and she stared ahead. We were quiet for a few moments, and then she said, “I really, really have been thinking a lot about God.”

And I knew that she was ready. I prayed silently that God would give me the courage and words to tell her how to accept Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior.

“Nana, do you know what it means to be a Christian?”

She nodded yes, then no, and then said, “Well, why don’t you tell me.”

So I did. I told her that it meant believing that Jesus died on the cross for her sins, that she had sins she needed to be forgiven for, and the only way to do that and to spend eternity in Heaven with God was to accept Jesus Christ as her Lord and personal Savior. As I told her, tears began seeping out the corners of her eyes.

I finished and I asked her if that is something she wanted. She said yes. And then kind of chuckled and said, “Well, I may as well do it now.”

And then she allowed me to pray with her. Her wrinkled hands in mine, tears were streaming now out of both of our eyes. What an amazing moment. I thanked God for letting me be there as she accepted Him, and when we were threw with the prayer, she was glowing.

She was so happy. We talked about how that all the pain she has now with chronic back problems and other health issues would be stripped away when she went to Heaven some day. We talked about how it was never too late to make the best decision of your life, to accept Christ. We talked about all three of her kids and how we aren’t sure where they are spiritually. We talked about me and where I am spiritually. And we talked about her.

When my uncle called a few minutes later I answered the phone and she said in the back ground, “Tell him! Tell him what I did!” So I did, even though I expected a less than positive reaction. She told others, too. And every time I have gone to see her since, she has remembered and we have talked about it and even prayed together.

How lucky am I to witness a spiritual conversion? And to top it off it was my own grandmother! I think back to the enormous disappointment I had in myself when my grandfather died and I doubted he had heard me and accepted Christ. I was devastated that I had waited too long to share with him the most important thing in my life. And I vowed then to not let another loved one slip away without me telling them what I could about a love that would save them forever.

It is true that God works everything for the good of those who love Him, just as He did in this very situation. My grandfather’s death ultimately played a huge role in my grandmother’s new life, and for that, I am eternally grateful.