A Different Sort Of Prayer

Weeping may remain for a night,

but rejoicing comes in the morning.

[Psalm 30:5]

The last time I posted about my Great Aunt, things were looking much better. She was off the ventilator; no more major tubes running down her throat. She was down to only a few types of medicines - mostly only for pain from her surgery and to help fight the infection that's growing in her abdomen. She held my hand, looked me in the eyes when I talked to her, squeezed it when I told her I'd see her again at Christmas, and squeezed it even harder when I told her I loved her.

I actually started, finished, and posted a totally different post about an hour ago. One asking for continued prayers/thoughts/etc for my Great Aunt Ruth as she was starting to get worse only after getting better when I was home a week ago. Only moments after I pressed the button to post, everything changed.

This afternoon my Great Aunt Ruth passed away. She was 94, and though she was the tiniest woman I've known, she is also one of the strongest, most amazing women I have ever had the pleasure to know. She was stubborn. She was sweet and caring. And she loved her family with every fiber of her being.

I'm going to miss her more than words will every be able to express. She was, in a sense, a piece of the glue that held everything together. But, I know, that her memory and her ongoing love will continue to hold everything together even after her passing. She's in a better place now, I do believe that. She feels no more pain, she's reunited with her husband and her daughter, she's watching over all of us at every moment. And we'll all be together again someday, as a large, joyous family.

I'll miss you Auntie Ruth. And I love you!

And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all that he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. For my Father's will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.

[John 6:39-40]