While I can’t remember the exact first moment I laid eyes on Matthew, I do remember that night. A number of years post college but before serving on staff with Cru, I would attend the annual Winter Conference on New Year’s Eve to spend time with many of my friends who were working for Cru. New Year’s Eve 2010 was no exception and I found myself loading up in the car, with many of these friends, to head to dinner. As luck would have it, the cute boy I’d spotted less than hours before would be joining us. Sadly, I’d learned that he did in fact have a girlfriend.
I think we were introduced, I know we sat at opposite ends of the dinner table and other than that I can’t remember much else. He has said that he maybe remembers meeting me that night. To be fair, he was dating someone else at the time and I figure that’s an acceptable enough reason for him to have not recognized his dream girl sitting right in front of him. Not quite 18 months later, I would attend a surprise party for one of those same friends from Cru. I would also make note that the cute boy from Winter Conference was invited. I had no idea if he was still in a relationship nor could I have guessed that our second “first meeting” would be the start of our forever.
Before meeting Matthew, my grandad, known affectionately as Papap was the male spiritual giant in my life. I don’t know that he could have been any taller than maybe 5’9”, but to me he was larger than life. I so very deeply adored him. The child of a single mom, for the first seven years of life, he was the only father figure in my life. I know he wasn’t perfect, but in my eyes, he could do little wrong.
I have vivid and cherished memories of breakfasts with him at Dunkin Donuts and Bojangles. Sometimes on Saturday’s, Papap would take my sister and I down a few blocks to a local gas station. More like a corner store, there he would treat us to little toys. To most they would have been worthless junk; to us they were tiny treasures given to us by our stand in dad. I’m confident he spoiled us with candy, he loved to tell jokes and I remember watching baseball and WWE with him; the latter much to the objection from my Mom and my grandma. A retired pastor, he loved the Lord deeply and desired to see the same be true for each of us.
A reality I know not everyone has, I consider myself incredibly fortunate that my Papap was a part of my life until the age of 28. Having received a terminal diagnosis only a couple of weeks before, on March 18th, 2012 he met his Savior face to face. Ten years later, even just typing that, I’m weighed down with all sorts of emotion. Grief, while having evolved, still exists as I recognize the loss of not getting to have him here. I am also able to rejoice knowing that he is now full and complete, without the hardship and heartache that life here on Earth can bring. I’m grateful that some day I know we’ll be together again.
I can no longer remember why, but to this day, whenever I hear the song Because He Lives I always think about my Papap. He loved singing and he loved hymns. It’s possible that it was a favorite of his and I knew it. I honestly just can no longer remember. Maybe, amidst a devastating loss the words were a deep comfort to my soul.
But greater still the calm assurance: This child can face uncertain days because He lives! Because he lives I can face tomorrow. Because he lives all fear is gone. Because I know he holds the future. And life is worth the living just because he lives.
Although I was already an adult when my Papap died, and I knew my day to day life wouldn’t change, it was easy to feel a sense of uncertainty having lost this dad-like figure in my life. It was never that I didn’t want to go on, instead just a difficulty of having to imagine what life might be like not getting to share with him the good things I hoped were yet to come. I would now be without the spiritual encouragement and example he had always been to me.
But God. He held all of my future, including one of eternal salvation, far more beautiful and wonderful than just having my Papap a part of my life. Christ’s willing death on the cross and his resurrection had shown to all that he is merciful, supreme and sovereign, good and gracious and so, so very much more. And, in spite of my own brokenness he made a way for me to spend eternity in Heaven with Him. This was all so very visible as he continued to write my story.
I don’t believe in coincidences and I have great certainty there is nothing in this life outside of the Lord’s hands. He is in the small details as much as the big ones. While I will always selfishly wish that God had waited just a little longer before he took my grandad home, what will never be lost on me is that when the Lord removed from my life the most godly man I’d ever known, he so quickly brought me to the one I will have for the rest of my life.
Less than two months after the passing of my grandad, I would re-meet Matthew. One year and five days later, we would get married, on my Papap and Grandma’s anniversary. One of my greatest earthly losses is that neither of them will ever know Matthew or our girls. I remember deciding that if they were still alive when I finally got married, should health prohibit them from travel, I would plan to get married in their retirement home. The party otherwise known as a reception could wait. There is no one else I wanted there more. Had Papap lived just one more year, I would have been honored to push his wheelchair, fully gowned, down the aisle of my wedding so he could’ve been part of giving me away. To me, that just felt right.
Still, what a kind and abundant gift my grieving heart was given nearly ten years ago. How merciful and loving for God to see my pain and offer even a small glimpse of the wholeness and healing I, like my Papap has, will someday receive. There was such an intentional knowing and care he showed when giving to me Matthew so shortly after losing my Papap.
Loss of any sort is hard. And life on this earth will have brokenness. It’s possible you are in a season of heartache or struggle yourself – I’d be lying if I said I didn’t currently find myself there. I will never pretend to understand all of the Lord’s ways. I also don’t think we should expect to. After all, then, he wouldn’t be God. What I do know, however, is that he has never changed. Never. Ever. He is still kind and merciful and compassionate. There is nothing outside of his control and all of his ways are good. I couldn’t have imagined a decade ago, on this day, that only a month and a half later I would experience joy and sweetness in stark contrast to the grief and great loss I felt.
But God knew. He did for me then and he does for me now. The same is true for each of you.
Trust with me today that because God lives there is nothing now, or in the future you can’t face, because of what Christ has done. Our hope is far beyond what this world could ever offer. The Lord continues to write the story of us. The same God who breathed the stars into place has his sovereign and powerful hand over every moment of our lives. His ways and plans are more captivating and full than anything we could ever envision for ourselves.
How kind of the Father to give us earthly treasures, like grandparents, husbands and more. He really does show his care of us in so many tangible ways. Even with that in mind, my prayer is that I will cherish the Giver so much more than the gifts. I pray that my desire for Christ will always be more than my desire for even the sweetest of earthly things. I hope that in heartache and healing I will see the Lord for who he is. I want to be keenly aware of how he is at work. My heart is that I will glorify God, more and more in my story, because He alone is worthy.
I pray the same for each of you.
Ashley M Spivey 