I’m too tired and lack motivation this morning to go into too much detail, but wanted to say a word about my granddad. He’s 90 years old. Just made a visit to see him yesterday. I really need to sit down sometime and recount the memories I have of him. He is such a model of what a man was intended to be. There is so much I could say, but for now, suffice it to say that I will never forget being at his house one night several years ago. I was probably in college, maybe high school. It was time for bed, perhaps around 11:00pm, and I walked by his room. There he was, down on his knees, praying to his Father in heaven. That image, on him on his knees, hands folded, praying by his bedside, was branded in my brain. What humilty. What reverence. What dependence.
Now, mind you, my granddad is a man’s man. He was in the navy, at Pearl Harbor when it was bombed, farmed, logged, built highways, truck driving, loves my grandmother and treats her with respect, chewed tobacco most of his life until he decided to give it up so he could give the money he saved to help support missionairies, would not harm anyone but would kick your butt if you needed it, etc. But there he was in prayer. On his knees. Praying to God who saves. Praying for his family, friends, church, world. Praying for me. I’m going to miss thoses prayers when he is gone. Here’s to hoping he gets to keep prayin’ in heaven!
Thanks granddaddy Windley.
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