Blessing

One month ago, my grandfather died. He was my first grandparent to part from the earth. I consider myself fortunate to known my grandparents for so long. Somehow, however, the goodbyes are no less difficult.

Before my grandfather died, he called me on the phone. He had been in and out of consciousness for several weeks. What's more, when he was awake, he was ill and had trouble speaking. But on the evening that we talked on the phone, he was strong. He sounded almost well.

We spoke about some family matters. Before my grandfather left the conversation, he said something in a strong clear voice: "Emily, you have always been good to the family. God bless you."

He didn't say "God bless you" in the cavalier way people do when they sneeze or feel they should say something religious. His tone was thankful, as if the words were never said before until he said them right then.

I've heard of people blessing others before they died, but I've never experienced it until now. I've read about people fighting over blessings of their fathers in Scripture. And to be honest, I've always thought it was silly to fight over blessings. They seemed like wispy wishes.

But today I feel differently. When someone takes some of their last breath to say words of strength and love and hope to another, they are unforgettable; they're life-giving. And that's how I felt-- like he took some of his air and put it inside my lungs.

It's been one month since my Granddad died. Today I was a little teary-eyed. I felt scared about something. But when I remembered my Granddad's blessing, I felt strength. Strength in God and His mighty gaze. Strength in truth and true family. I felt blessed.

May you know blessing today as well.