The Rest of the Story

My paternal grandmother died when I was attending college.

I was angry with God, convinced she was not ready to die.

I remember screaming a prayer one day, “She wasn’t ready to die!” These simple words held an accusation: “God, You are not fair; my grandmother wasn’t ready to die.” No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I sensed God’s reply to my accusation. The impression came in a still, calm voice to my heart: I decide when she is ready to die.

While I was recovering from the shock that the God of the universe had just spoken to me, a peace came over me. God had not addressed my grandmother’s readiness or death. However, His declaration of sovereignty settled me. God is perfect in His timing and just in His decisions. I chose to place my trust in Him and have faith that all was as it should be.

Fast-forward twenty years. I am with my parents and sister, talking about my grandmother’s death. My father tells us that during her last days in the hospital, all her organs began to shut down except for her heart. Her heart was beating strong as if she were trying to will herself to live. During this time, one of the hospital chaplains spoke to my father and uncle. He said, “Sometimes when a person is at the end of life, they will fight to live.

They fight, not because they want to live but rather because they don’t want to disappoint their loved ones by not fighting to live.” The chaplain continued, “Sometimes the dying person just needs permission from loved ones to stop fighting so they can rest.” “And that’s what we did,” my father tells us. He and my uncle did just that.

They went into my grandmother’s room and told her that they would not be disappointed if she was tired and ready to stop fighting for life.

A few days later, my grandmother died.

As I sat there listening to my father, all the missing “gaps” filled in. I realized that my grandmother had been ready to die after all. I also marveled at the wisdom of God. He could have defended Himself against my accusation of being unfair.

He could have told me to call my father and have him explain my grandmother’s end of life. But He did not. God told me what I needed to hear in order to grow in trust in His works—even when I could not understand them.

Carmalita Green