So, I haven't posted in months. It's really only because I've found little time to sit down and write. But this week something happened that prompted me to get out pen and paper again: my beloved grandfather went home to be with the Lord. I wrote this in the two days following his death and read it this morning during his funeral service. Please read on and get to know a great man.
As all of
you know, my grandfather, Austin “Horsefly” Herring, was a great man. So many
of you expressed your feelings about him last night, speaking of his humor,
wit, friendliness, sweetness, and love of the Lord. I knew him to embody all of those qualities
as well. But I’d like to tell you about the grandfather I love, my Poppy.
For most of
our lives my brother and I considered Poppy to be more than a grandfather—we
considered him to be our dad. I’d almost
say that he “stepped in” to act as our father, but that would imply that he
made a decision to do so. I believe it was just a natural act for him. Our
Poppy was the one to take us on so many camping trips to Sardis Lake in the
trailer and the old “Green Hornet” as he called that old Ford. He taught me how
to pick the very best tomatoes out of his garden. He taught us how to take care
of a home and yard and showed my brother what hard work truly looked like. He
helped to teach us both how to drive—and I’ll never forget the time I tried to
turn left on a green yield light. He almost put both feet through the
floorboards and scared the life out of me. He guided me through the death of my
mother, as he had been through the very same experience. He was there to give
my then boyfriend the infamous “Herring stare” for several months every time he
came to visit—and if you don’t know what that is, then count yourself lucky. He
was the one my husband went to to ask for my hand in marriage. And he was the
one I chose to give me away on my wedding day.
And then he was the one whose heart I broke when I moved all the way to
Texas. But we seemed to only grow closer over the years.
We had a
sweet relationship—one that a father should have with his daughter. And through
that love, he taught me what it was to be loved like a Princess and how I
should expect a man to love me. In one
of our last conversations , Poppy began talking about my grandmother, whom we
called Meme. He talked for a while and then said that those last few years were
the best of their marriage. I wasn’t necessarily surprised by this because I
saw that love in his every action in those years. His gentle care for Meme
while she was still living at home has been forever imprinted on my heart. His
dedication and faithfulness to get to the nursing home every day he could just
to sit with her has become my definition of true love. But I still asked him
why—why were those last years the best? He couldn’t really answer me because he
was overwhelmed with emotion. He only said that they had a sweet love. I know
that this kind of enduring, faithful love is something I will not truly
understand until I taste it for myself. But because of the example of love and
marriage he provided for me, I believe I will be able to someday know the
fullness of that brand of love.
And today
that is one of the reasons that I just cannot go very long grieving the loss of
my Poppy. I know that this world was not
his true home, and now he is again with his beloved wife of now more than 65 years. You see, his life
has not ended; it has only now truly begun. He is now in a place that has been
prepared for him by his most precious love of all, Jesus Christ, whom he walked
with since the age of 34. My grandfather was able to be more than a grandfather
to me because his example of how to live a full and loving life came from the
Living God of the Bible. And my greatest
debt of gratitude to him was that he passed on this legacy of faith as one who
discipled me.
Now, I don’t
want you to think that I won’t or am not grieving the loss of my Poppy, for I
surely am and will continue to do so. And what I’ll miss most are those very
sweet discussions we would have about the Lord because I so loved to hear of
his love for the Lord. But, again, I can’t get over this picture in my mind—one
of my Poppy standing in the presence of his precious Savior. So, I guess the
best way to honor my Poppy would be to ask you what he considered to be the
most important question of all: Do you know Jesus? In that question, you are
required to think of a relationship, because truly walking with Jesus, true
Christianity is beyond upright moral values or religious attitudes. It is, in
its essence, a relationship. So, as you
honor the memory of my grandfather today, please ask yourself that question and
remember how he lived out his faith.
