Thursday Devotion

by Steven Grace

Peaks and Valleys

Verse: Psalm 23

Devotion:

April 10, 1997. The day started as most spring days do: up late, rush to get ready for school, out the door, honk as I go past Grandpa and Grandma’s, and arrive at school a few minutes (maybe 2) early. Around lunch time, I realized I forgot something at home (what it was, I have no idea now). So, jump in my truck to go home quick, honk as I go past Grandpa and Grandma’s, grab whatever important item I forgot, head back to school (honking as I go past Grandpa and Grandma’s). After school, we had a light track practice, because we had a meet the following night. So I’m feeling really good as I head to work a few hours before going home. I walk in, and Corky (my boss) tells me that I don’t need to work tonight, so I can go home! My first thought was: “Score! Now I can go play video games a few hours early!”

As I get in my truck and start back home, I see my cousin’s husband, Mike, pull out in front of me. He was going a little fast, but that wasn’t unusual. I remember thinking “I hope nothing happened.” But that thought quickly exited my mind. As I follow him (from a distance, because I didn’t feel the need to speed that much), I see some lights in the distance. At the top of a hill, I meet an ambulance coming from Springdale. Again, my mind thought “I hope whoever is in there will be okay.” A few miles later, I realize my day is about to take a turn for the worse.

At the edge of Springdale, I see Mike whip his truck into Grandpa and Grandma’s house. My heart sank, and I sped to join him in the driveway. As I get out and slam my door (which didn’t shut, because the seatbelt was stuck in it), I start asking “What’s going on?” Mom is there to greet me with the news that deflates me: “Grandpa’s gone.” Immediately I storm away in anger and denial, hoping that they are wrong; hoping that he got revived on the way to the hospital in the ambulance I passed.

A few hours later, I couldn’t deny things any more, as I joined my parents and brother in saying good-bye to my grandfather, lying on a table in Mercy Hospital. Never in a million years did I imagine this day happening, especially when the day contained so many euphoric feelings. But even 18 years later, I still can’t fight back the tears thinking about that devastating news. And to top things off, we had to drive home through a rare spring snow storm!

As we went through the process with the visitation and funeral, I felt somewhat withdrawn, and even in some minor form of denial that it was all a bad dream. At the funeral, as I sang “Be Still My Soul”, my mind was solely focused on the words and notes. But as soon as I finished and sat down, a wave of emotions hit me, and I burst into tears. Feeling the bravado of a teenage boy, I composed myself as we went to the burial. As the 21-gun salute was going off, one of my older cousins was sobbing, so I put my arm around him to comfort him. As the service concluded, I quickly started walking through the snow away from everybody, wanted to mourn in my own private world. But before I got very far, I heard a familiar cry of “Steven!” I turned to find my other set of grandparents walking with me. I cried hard into my grandmother’s shoulder, and when I finally pulled away, there was a line of my friends waiting to comfort me as well.

Even though I had experienced death of people close to me (classmates, parents of classmates), this was the first time I had lost someone I loved very dearly. It took a long time, but now I try to remember all of the good memories I have from my 17 years I got to spend with Grandpa Grace. But this story will always be etched in my memory.

Coming on the heels of Easter, we are reminded of Christians that we have days like mine: euphoric peaks where everything falls into place coupled with devastating valleys where if feels like nothing will ever go right again. As Psalm 23 tells us: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” Christ is referred to as the Great Shepherd…His rod and staff are our comfort when we find those valleys. So we need to remember that when the peaks seem too far to ever reach, we are not alone: we turn to God. He will lead us back up; He will help us to better days, through the support of our family and friends.

Here is a version of “Be Still, My Soul” sung by Libera, a boys choir in London:

And here is a video of a song that I listened to a lot to help me through the grieving process: “Lightning Crashes” by Live (the song was written about a friend of the band who was killed in a car crash)