A year ago today my Gramcracker entered her rest, blazing, as always the trail before me. To me she was an anchor. She had cast herself upon Jesus; and she also cast me upon Him, every day of my life, as she loved me and prayed for me, every day of my life.
She prayed for me 15,845 days. That is probably the most significant thing anyone has ever done or will ever do for me, and one of my greatest treasures in this life. If I could find a precious of enough bottle, and bottle it, I would wear it around my neck and use it like Lucy's Narnian vial with the magical cordial with healing powers. Like my Gramcracker, did for me.
She lifted me up to Him and she carried me. When I could walk she took my hand and I scurried along, at her heels. She walked before me and I followed her. Along the way, we began walking side by side. Further on, as she would scoot along with her wheeled-walker, she would crack herself up (which always cracked me up) calling herself my "rockin' and rollin'" Gramcracker. And at times I'd push her in her wheelchair. I would receive a card a few days later thanking me. Even from a wheelchair that I was pushing, she was leading me.
To me she was a signpost, pointing me to Jesus, the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us. Now she is resting in peace, and dwelling in Him.
I don't know how many days she read His Word while she dwelt here. Her baby book records that as early as 21 months she began begging her Mum to read to her the Bible about Jesus. That is higher math and I'm no math guru, but I know that's a lot.
Here is just a sampling of some of her Bibles I collected from various nooks and crannies of her tiny apartment. As we were sorting through her things, I made a stack of her open Bibles and just sat there by myself for awhile, in awe. They were all worn, some to pieces, and were marked from cover to cover. Sermon notes, cross references, prayer requests, highlights, "precept"-style, names, dates, notes. A precious treasure trove.
The night before the funeral, I brought my Redheads to see my little "shrine". I wanted them to see this particular inheritance my Gramcracker, their Gigi, left us. I wanted them to feel the weight of her devotion to God. She didn't just read His Word (over and over and over...), she lived and breathed every Word. She loved God and she loved us, which was not just evident while she graced our lives, but all over the margins of her Bibles. (Do the math, Redheads, because you can be sure she prayed for you just as she prayed for me, all the days of your life for the rest of her life.)
Psalm 119:105 says, "Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." I don't think it's any coincidence that my Gramcracker's name was Eileen, which means light. She showed me the path, helped put my feet upon it, pointed out the Lamppost for me, fought the fight, ran the race, kept the faith, and left the Book of Eileen behind for us to follow. Like she was leaving the light on for us.
She is still leading and I am still following.