When I was twelve years old, my Grandma died. In some ways, it was a lonely, sad death. At the time, she was living in our home in Eureka, California, under the care of hospice. A grumpy nurse with a this-is-just-a-job attitude stayed at our home the last few days of my Grandma’s life. The day my Grandma died my mother, along with my sister, had travelled to San Francisco for a doctor’s appointment–an appointment that had been made many months in advance. My father was a commercial fisherman and so he was out at sea. I came home from school to find the nurse pacing back-and-forth in front of my house, irritated, waiting for my arrival. She told me that my Grandmother had been taken to the hospital and to get in the car. When I walked into the hospital room my Grandma was in a coma. In the room was an old friend of the family, my “adopted” Grandma Mabel–an older woman in our church who was also friends with my Grandma. I was then promptly ushered out of the room, taken out to eat dinner and returned home without going back to the hospital.

A few hours later my mom and sister returned home. My sister asked me, “What was it like?”

I did not know what she was talking about.

“About Grandma dying,” she continued.

“Grandma is not dead,” I replied. “I just saw her.” It turned out that Grandma had died while I was out eating, and no one had told me. Naturally, I felt foolish, insecure, sad and out of sorts all at once. But it was not until recently, as my husband and I have been working through the book “Putting Your Past in its Place” by Stephen Viars, when I realized that my Grandma had died without any family members present. As I child, the only thing that I could think of was my own sorrow. But, then again, as a wonderful Christian woman, she did not die alone. She lived unto Christ and she had died with Christ. He was with her and He had sent Grandma Mabel to be with her, as well.

I do not want to die alone. I want to die with family and friends with me. But, if the Lord chooses otherwise, I know that, just like my Grandma, I will die in His arms. This made me think of our children’s hymn, “Loving Shepherd, Living Water,” which is based on Psalms 23:

My soul He refreshes,
Like sun’s daybreak.
My steps He arranges
For His name’s sake.
Past deep and scary shadow
And through dark night,
I fear not Satan’s arrows—
Christ is the Light.

I will not fear the dark night of death; I will not fear Satan’s arrows for Christ is with me. Amen.

You can listen to our song here.