My Grandma Gloystein made the best Peach Cream Pie. It was her signature pie that she was known by. I grew up eating it and loving it. I don't make it often, but the other night I happen to make one just because. The kids really liked it, and it was neat for me to be able to tell them about their Great Grandma Gloystein and why she was special.
I loved my Grandma Gloystein. I had always felt close to her growing up, and looking back, it is probably because we were (and I still am) very similar to each other. She was on the shy and quiet side. She didn't like to be in the spot light and social situations made her nervous. She struggled with anxiety and what other people thought of her. She was crafty and enjoyed being creative. She was a peacemaker, a perfectionist, and was so many times unsure of herself.
I was special because after having three boys of her own, I was her first grandchild, and I became the pink in her life. It made us have a special relationship, and I loved her.
Eight years ago, she was very sick. She had valves in her heart replaced, but she was really never able to recover from that. She needed oxygen. She needed to be taken care of. Her heart was just so weak. By May she was put on hospice because there was nothing more doctors could do to help her heart. I made out verse cards and sent them to her hoping to encourage her. I got updates from my mom and was thankful that she seemed to be doing well.
I will never forget the afternoon I came home from teaching preschool and knew that I needed to go see her. I'll call it a God whisper. And out of all the days, it was the worst timing. I had a preschool field trip the next day and those days were always crazy. It was almost the end of the school year and I had so much to finish before the last day of school arrived... I was already staying up late at night just to get things done. But God was whispering in my heart to go see my grandma, and so I did.
I sat on the floor by her lazy boy and we chatted. I watched her eat her supper of peaches and yogurt. We talked about the house Tim and I were building and I told her that I wanted to have a yellow gingham kitchen. She smiled and told me that her first kitchen was yellow gingham. We talked about my busy day coming up and the field trip we were going on. She showed me the cardboard stand that grandpa had made for her to tape all her verses on that I had sent to her... so she could just sit and look at them. I could tell her heart was thankful. It was getting late, and it was time for me to go, so I gave her a big hug, and told her that I loved her, and she said it back to me which was something she didn't do often.
The next morning as I was heading out the door to school, I got a call from my mom... my grandma had died. All I could remember thinking was that I had gotten to say good bye... and that I was so thankful that I had listened to what God was laying on my heart the day before...
As I finished up my slice of pie, I was thinking about all the times God has laid something on my heart and I don't do anything. I'm too busy, I'll do it later, I'm too scared, I'll impose, I don't want to be a bother... but what joys, what moments, what pieces of life am I missing out on by not listening to those whispers? In what ways are others not being encouraged in the Lord by my lack of confidence and boldness?
My slice of pie reminded me to not only listen, but to act... to have attentive ears to hear that still, small voice of God... and have the courage and take the time to follow through.
