Growing up, I spent much time with my grandmother. My mom was teaching, so I would go to my grandmother's house before and after school. I'd even go to her house for lunch during my elementary years. She was very kind, to the point where she would let me speak brashly to her in my seasons of awkward and angry development. Coming from a very strict family, I wouldn't dare speak that way to my parents. The consequences were much too strong. So, I vented where I knew it was safe. How sad was that???
During my sophomore year in high school, I began my first experience working. I turned 16 and got a job in our local music store. I absolutely loved it. I would spend some of my weekly pay buying sheet music. It was heaven. My repetoire grow enormously that year. I'd come home from work, sit at the piano, and play, and play, and play. It was the love of my life. The place where I felt safe. A place that I alone would occupy. It was all mine.
Since my grandmother lived in the house behind ours, my parents would have her keep an eye on us (my brother and I ) while they were out. Oh, how I resented that. It made me feel like such a child. I was in high school for heaven's sake. What's wrong with this picture?
Everything changed, however, the night my parents chose not to inform her of the meeting they both had. They left us......alone. And...............grandma didn't even know. That was huge for us. I did, however, choose not to change my usual routine, which was to finish my home work , practice the piano, and then enjoy playing my new music. One of my favorites was called 'The Sweetheart Tree' from the movie,The Great Race. It was just beautiful.
As I was enjoying the moment, I kept thinking of how my grandma would really like the song. So..............believe it or not..................I called, and invited her to come and hear it. I know...What can I say??
Anyway, as she sat in my Mom's chair near the window across from the piano, and listened to me play, we both began to cry. I stopped playing, crossed the room, and knelt before her with my face in her lap. All I could say through my sobbing was, "I'm sorry." It was a time of cleansing, forgiving, and repentance.
I wish I could say that from that point on we had a wonderful, loving relationship. Well, I can't. The next day, she was found on her living room floor unconscious. After being admitted to the hospital, we were told that she had a stroke, and time would tell if she would recover. She never did. Two weeks later, she was gone.
"God, I hate you!" was my heart's cry for years after that. All I could think about was my disappointment in His timing to take her home. What a waste!! I would never be able to have a loving relationship with her again. How unfair! How cruel God was to end our new beginning.
It wasn't until 10 years later that I chose to embrace the gift of Jesus Christ as my hope and redeemer. I was miserable and needed help for my heart. All that anger, over a period of time, really does affect you. I remember my first Bible Study group where we talked about God's love. I still had alot of anger in this regard, and it was obvious to everyone. I decided to share my story with them, and repeatedly mentioned how cruel He was to take her home when he did. Then came the revelation.
They encouraged me to see the situation through God's eyes. Could it be that He knew that she would be leaving this realm the next day, and that He loved me enough to make a way for our hearts to bond once again? I can still feel those words explode in my spirit. It was all in our perspective. Wow!!!!
God knows what we need.....when we need it. God is Love!!!
God encourages us, for our heart's sake, to see what He sees. And now, I can say to you........... Do YOU see what I see??????
1 comment:
Thank you for posting your stories. I can't believe how much I relate to them. I guess you really saw what was going on inside of me, back then, because you experienced the anger yourself.
I, too, spent a lot of time with my grandmother growing up. We were always more close than my mother and I. She is my best childhood memory...my safe place.
What you experienced with your grandmother is such a gift...to be able to say you're sorry.
God gave that to me when my mom was dying. I look back on it and thank Him for that. I still remember what it felt like to hold her hand and say that I was sorry for all I did throughout the years. Looking into her eyes, crying, and seeing tears fall from hers. And then hearing that she was sorry, too. Yes, I would have loved to have years after that to have an even better relationship, but that moment was meant to be in that place in my life for whatever reason. It makes remembering her more fond because it brought healing and washing.
Your blog connects me to my heart. It also makes me feel better that I am not the only one who enjoys writing deeply. So many don't get it...I love making people look at perspectives, and hopefully changing theirs. I guess you do too.
Hurt hurts, but the healing is so sweet and beautiful!
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