Death, Hope and Witnessing

“Boaz, your grandpa was out in the garage bringing some things down from the attic when he fell off the ladder and hit his head. He has brain damage and is currently on a ventilator. When he is taken off, the doctor doesn’t expect him to breathe on his own.” My grandmother shared this devastating news with me one morning on a Facebook video call. At first I couldn’t comprehend her words, but as they finally sank in, my heart began to hurt, and my eyes became blurry.

My grandparents raised me since I was five years old, and Grandpa was the only dad I really knew. I just wanted to be there with him to support him in his final moments, but here I was on the other side of the world. I contacted our supervisors, and they immediately cleared me for an emergency trip to the States. “God,” I prayed, “if it is Your will, please help me get there before he passes. I just want to see him and be there for him.”
The plane ride home was surreal, and I spent the time in prayer and reflection. I felt blessed as I remembered all the good times I’d had with Grandpa, and the 30-plus hours of travel were over before I knew it.

On my longest flight, I began seeing God work through this tragedy as I befriended a young man from Singapore and a foreign-exchange student from Korea. As I told about my grandfather’s accident, I shared about the hope he had in Jesus. The Korean student was Buddhist and listened with rapt attention as I gave my personal testimony. I also shared about God’s love and His power to change our hearts through His Word. I hope and pray that the seeds sown will encourage her to seek Jesus.

Upon arriving in the U.S., I was blessed to spend two days with Grandpa before he passed. I was there with him when he breathed his last. I have cried with people for their lost loved ones because I was touched with their sense of loss. But never before had I cried because of my own sense of loss. Even though I have the hope of seeing Grandpa in the Kingdom, I can’t help but miss him in the meantime.

More than ever, the shortest verse in the Bible gave me unspeakable comfort: “Jesus wept.” Yes, Jesus feels my pain, as shortsighted as I may be, and actually weeps with me. Since returning to Cambodia, I feel that life has a new sense of urgency. This world is not our home, and people need to know how much God loves them. May all of us be found faithful in sharing the gifts of spiritual abundance we have received.

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