Granddaddy…

My grandfather might be the most difficult person you or I have ever met. Now, don’t get me wrong… I love my granddaddy deeply… maybe even because he prides himself on being difficult. In the words of my mom, he and I have always had a “special” relationship. As far back as I can remember, it’s looked something like this: Granddaddy and I would begin setting the table for dinner while Grandmother finished cooking the broccoli on the stove. Granddaddy would look at me and proclaim “I’m not eatin’ no broccoli!” I would look back at him, with all the authority of a seven year-old, and say “Oh yes you are!” He’d put his hands on his hips and say “We’ll just see.” As we all sat down to dinner, Grandmother would fill up his plate full of broccoli and then hand him some cheese sauce to cover it up. Granddaddy would harrumph and we’d all smile… knowing he’d lost another battle, but really got everything he’d wanted in causing a little difficulty.

For over 50 years, this was my Granddaddy’s life… picking fights he’d ultimately lose to Grandmother. The problem came when my grandmother passed away in 2001. As Granddaddy lived in the retirement center by himself, he found that there was no one to pick a fight with anymore. As he would get ornery about different things, people would begin to just let him have his way… “Well, he’s just an old man… we’ll accommodate him.” However, we’ve discovered that Granddaddy still just wants to fight. That’s where my new role in the family started… Granddaddy’s fight-picker.

In the past few years, Granddaddy has started acting out more and more at his retirement home and being more than a bit unreasonable. My parents are going to get him a few doctors appointments to see if there are medical causes for this, but in the meantime, it’s time for me to step up to the plate. A few weeks ago I invited Granddaddy to start going to breakfast with me on Tuesdays, for the silent reason of just picking a fight in hopes that he would stop trying to pick fights with the staff of the retirement home.

This was a great plan until last Friday…

After breakfast on Tuesday… a rather unexpectedly pleasant breakfast, Granddaddy asked if I would take him to get a haircut. He didn’t like “that old woman salon” at the retirement center and wanted a proper old man haircut from an old man barber. I said I would try to come later in the week, maybe Friday. Well… Friday turned out to be an AWFUL day, full of car maintenance and angry people on the phone. In the midst of all this, I have to confess I simply forgot to go pick up Granddaddy. I thought, “no big deal… I didn’t promise to be there Friday and told him I would just try.” But that’s not what Granddaddy had in his mind… and I’m in trouble.

I called Granddaddy on Monday to make plans for Tuesday’s breakfast and to tell him I’d found a proper old man barber. But Granddaddy told me he didn’t want to go to breakfast and he didn’t want to go to the barber. At first I was a bit shocked at how he was acting, but realized after talking to my mom that this was a test. As I’ve thought about this I see that Granddaddy isn’t looking for a fight right now… he’s asking the deepest heart question: Will you love me when I’m not lovable?

It’ll be a week before I can see my Granddaddy again… but in the meantime I’m praying that God would begin to help me show deep love to a man who has never known ultimate grace. This isn’t an opportunity for easy answers or a simple hug… this is a chance for sacrificial love that won’t be returned.

And yet… this opportunity is drawing me close to the heart of God right now. Romans 5 has been rolling around in my head a lot recently: While we were YET SINNERS, Christ died for us. While I was still unlovable… still rebellious… still picking fights… Christ chose to die for me. Just before that verse Paul writes that a person may perhaps die for a righteous person… a person who has done good with their life… a person who has given you much. For that person you might take a bullet. After all… they’ve earned that much, right? But what about the trouble maker… what about me? I absolutely don’t deserve to be loved. I know myself too well… I know the thoughts I catch just before speaking… I know the actions I stop just before doing. I know what I deserve… and it’s not that kind of love. But Christ so loved me that he jumped in front of my bullet. My bullet of self-destruction and my bullet of eternal death.

And now I have a chance to be Jesus-with-skin-on for my Granddaddy. I have a chance to show him that when he’s rebellious and ornery… whether because of an illness or just lonely… I’ll still be there. I’ll still love him.

I’m not capable of this in myself… but Christ is capable of this through me. And that’s my prayer this week… that the next time I see my Granddaddy I would overflow with love that eternally changes his heart. Will you pray with me?