Choosing Love: The Sequel

A couple months ago, I wrote an exceedingly popular post about choosing love, even when it was hard and I didn't feel like it. My conclusion was that when we choose love, we are blessed, even if our situation doesn't change externally.

I haven't posted about this before, because I was still processing, but it's time to say something. My paternal grandmother is dying. Not like we're all dying, where of course it's coming. She's now on hospice care, and we probably have a week or two left. She has been sick for a long time, and it has gotten increasingly difficult for her to breathe. She is not anxious about dying, really. She looks forward to going to Heaven to be with Jesus and the family members that are already there. I, in some ways, welcome her peace and healing, and I believe that we will see her again someday. Please don't ask if I'm okay. This post will tell you everything you need to know about how I'm doing. (For more on my perspective on grieving, this post is for you.)

But we will miss her. I can't say that I agree with everything she's said or done, but she is a woman of deep, active conviction. She taught Sunday school and VBS for years. She volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center after she retired. Even when it got difficult to get out, she opened her home. For any of you who have been to dinner at my house and liked my entertaining style, know that I learned it from her. She's an amazing storyteller. The best whistler I know. To hear her talk about a Vernor's Boston Cooler with Sander's ice cream, you would think she was telling you about the finest French pastry.

So about choosing love. My family is a family, so by definition it's dysfunctional. I get that, but these are the moments when everyone should rally together. Yet there is a great deal of discord, some of which I fear will not be surmounted in time. I am still frustrated with what happened last December. And I said that I would not attend events that Rebecca is not invited to. But refusing to see my grandmother at this point isn't going to change what happened. That rule is for my protection and benefit as I make difficult choices about where to spend the holidays, not to punish my family. And I know that I will never regret sitting with Grandma, or bringing her ice cubes, or rubbing her back, or discussing the proper way to make a Boston Cooler. I cannot see a way that I will regret making her dinner. I also won't regret being there to provide even a small amount of relief for the family members caring for her. I'm sure I won't regret validating their decisions to grieve the way they need to or to do self-care.

My family may regret boycotting my wedding. They may not. I don't know. But I know that I will not regret choosing love or choosing to extend the small graces that I have available to me in this present moment, even though I am concerned that Rebecca may not be invited to the memorial service when I really will need her with me for support.

The pastor shared this passage from 1 John 4 yesterday, and I found it incredibly convicting:

7 Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8 Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 9 This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. 10 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11 Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 19 We love because he first loved us. 20 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar.

I hope that all readers will choose love with me today.