9/10/18

I have faith the size of a mustard seed but this is no mountain. I need it to shake the entire earth.

As I endure this hard time I'm trying to remember to take care of myself. It's easy to abandon a steady lifestyle due to loss or frustration or times in general that are very hard to get through. But I need to remember to eat and sleep and talk and that it's okay to cry. %110 of me wants to just give up and let the sorrow take over, abandon my goals and dreams, allow my grades to drop as low as my self-esteem, and sit here in my self pity. That'd be the easiest thing to do right now because I naturally don't care about any of it due to my circumstances. The thought of losing my grandpa like this haunts me.

I know that anything is possible with God so you already know that I've been praying for a miracle but when you're the only one praying it's easier to see the hopelessness of a situation.

I got a an unusual phone call from my brother in Iowa on Tuesday night. He didn't start with asking me about how I've been or what's new in my life. The first thing he said was "Logan, I'm calling because I need a prayer warrior" word for word. My grandpa was admitted to Mayo Clinic in Minnesota that day for a possibly life threatening heart surgery. So that night I packed my bags and planned to leave the next day.

After arriving at the hospital in Minnesota I made a lot of observations and gathered a lot of information. All of it very new to me and hard to take in. That night in the shower it hit me. This time I really CAN'T do this without God. So I pleaded with my whole heart that God would show up. I prayed that He would give me the boldness to speak up and let God be God for once. And for the sake of my grandpa I pushed aside everything that Logan wants. It'd be too easy to sit at his bed side and hold his hand all day telling him it's going to be okay when he's really not. My brother and I spent hours at the hospital praying for him. And I did my best to comfort my Nana who broke down every thirty minutes or so. I don't blame her. None of us saw this coming.

One night I stayed at the hospital with my Grandpa and prayed until the sun started peaking up. Not that time matters. But spending so much time with God was more comforting to me than crying in the arms of my family. And somehow that whole week I was able to keep it together. I know that God wants to personally know my grandpa but I don't know how to initiate that conversation without looking or feeling like an idiot. That's the feeling that I so desperately want to push aside for the sake of his salvation. But at the time I couldn't. I couldn't shake off the pressure or fear of being shut down.

After spending that entire night in prayer I finally fell asleep in the Family Waiting Area. Only a few hours later I woke up to the unsettling sensation that I was going to puke. The last thing I needed. It was nothing I ate. And it didn't make sense. I bolted to the bathroom as fast as I could and crouched at the toilet. Still it did not make sense to me why I was sick. And I hated it. I hate that feeling. It wasn't just a stomach ache to me. I felt like the devil was trying to tell me I lost and this is my fate. That I might as well be put in my own hospital bed. That I'm hopeless at this point and despite all my prayers the devil will still take him.

"God I will NOT Puke" I commanded it to all stop. The thoughts, the rush, the nausea, and head ache. Just a few seconds later my stomach started to ease and go away. I went back to bed and fell sound asleep.

Sunday morning I said my last prayers and my last goodbyes to my grandpa in person. The fact that my grandpa let me hold his hand and pray for him was a miracle alone. I made it home okay. Then on Monday I made it through first and second hour okay. Then third hour... I crashed. This wave of emotion and hopelessness washed over me pushing tears to the surface of my eyes and nose uncontrollably. We haven't even lost him yet and I'm a wreck. I couldn't keep it together. The whole day I fought back tears so hard my face was swelling up and turning pink. All those moments I shoved it in at the hospital were finally spilling over and everyone noticed. By seventh hour I had had it. I bursted into the nurses office and fell apart. I let those tears flow like rivers from my eyes and I let my nose drip onto my lap. I didn't hold back a single tear.

I'm still praying. I'm still waiting for the opportunity but time is running out. It's only a matter of days until he leaves us forever. I have faith the size of a mustard seed but this is no mountain. I need it to shake the entire earth.

HELLO! Thank you for reading:) This was an incredibly hard week for me losing my grandpa so suddenly but it was a powerful time as well. God pulled through as usual. Don't underestimate the power of prayer. I wish I could confidently say my grandpa who was never fond of church or God gave his life to Jesus on his death bed the night before he passed. But I'm not sure. My brother had enough boldness to share the gospel with my grandpa last minute. Who knows if he truly accepted Christ as his savior!? But I know God is good. And His plans are good. Though my grandpa was too weak to pray a prayer or even nod there was a sense of peace over him in his last moments that I have never felt before.