Elijah's letter

Going up north last weekend was very hard, there were many tears especially as Mercy went to bed for the first time without them tucking her in. It felt empty and was missing the two people who always made it feel like home. We enjoyed time with Bryan's sisters, our nieces and my brother, but it was just not the same. We needed to go, and we are glad we did, but the reality is too much to absorb.

I did not find time or internet access this past weekend to finish our letters, but this is Elijah's letter. What a kid, and what great memories he has with his grandparents. He is trying to be tough and brave, but pray for his heart. I know that it is hurting.

As a boy, your father is your first hero, and your grandpa is your second. My Papa was a great man and his impact on my life will affect me until it is my turn to join him in heaven, and very likely after that. One of my favorite memories with him was making a special marble maze out of wood. Truly the only reason I did it at first was because I wasn’t sure how to spend time with him, however my mom suggested making the maze so we set to work. I’m now extremely thankful for the time we spent as he shared a lot about being a Christian and encouraged me to continue strong. 

                  As a boy, the first woman you learn to cherish is your mother, and after that your grandma is your second. One of my favorite memories to share is when God stopped the rain when I was four so I could have ice cream. However, what I’ve forgotten about that memory until recently, was that Oma was the one encouraging me to pray and ask God to stop the rain. People may not see Oma in as many things as they do Papa, however in most everything Papa did, Oma was always there in some small way, both supporting and giving him strength, or working in the shadows to make sure it all worked nicely.

                  Together Oma and Papa made the perfect team, and in the middle of that team there was hope and faith in Christ that was poured out onto every person they came into contact. My final and favorite memory of the two of them was the proud looks on their faces when I professed my faith in God. It showed me not only the great love they had for God, but it also affirmed my belief that I was going in the right direction. They died with that hope in their hearts, and as a sign they made it, God honored their wish to die together. To close, I want to ask this one question that you can each answer on your own. If you were to die unexpectedly like they did, would you die with the same hope in your hearts?