"t's like this: When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child does. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly as in a poor mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me now.
- 1 Corinthians 13:11-12, New Living Translation

There are really no words to describe what happened here today. All week I've quietly wrestled with grandpa Berry's homegoing, and even now my heart seems kinda neutral...just kinda left hanging.

Last week, when we got in the car to drive to Nashville, my mind was racing about what it would be like to see grandpa Berry die. I had never seen anyone die, and the thought was rather disturbing to me, to be truthful. Along with that disturbance, I quietly hoped that when he slipped away from this life, he would tell us goodbye, and that his eyes would glow with the beauty of heaven and his God. I had even hoped that he would be able to tell us what he was seeing as he stepped into heaven.

Things did not go like any of us had hoped. We had all hoped that he would find quick relief from his suffering. Even a week ago, it seemed the cancer could take his life at any second. But he lived for more than a week after they said he had hours. Each day brought steady decline in his ability to interact with us. Yesterday, he lost almost all ability to respond to us. This morning, his breathing became extremely heavy and quick, and it stayed that way until he passed away at 1:35.

When Grandpa died, he could not say goodbye. He could not tell us what beauty he saw. His eyes weren't glowing with the beauty of heaven. He simply stopped breathing. And when he breathed his last, he saw his first glimpse of Jesus in all his glory!

Bec, her mother and I were talking later on this evening about how we all felt now that he has gone on to heaven. I know this sounds weird, and I feel strange even writing this, but in a way, I envy him. I envy him because of the verse I quoted at the beginning of this post. I envy him because his view is no longer clouded. His vision is not dimmed. He doesn't have to look at things through dirty glasses. Not at all. Now, he is experiencing and knowing Jesus just like Jesus has known me since before I was born. His faith is finished. Now he worships by sight!

All in all, the experience here was joyful, with a moments of sadness intermingled. I definitely came to understand personally the meaning of Ecclesiastes 7:2:

It is better to go to the house of weeping, than to go to the house of feasting; because that is the end of every man, and the living will take it to their hearts.

I will leave here with a new perspective on life. In watching Grandpa Berry die with such great faith, I have begun to understand more clearly how I ought to live: full on for the glory of God!