She was my husband’s grandmother. At ninety-six, she was the reigning family matriarch. And now, she is a newly arrived citizen of the kingdom of heaven.

Today, her eyes—no longer weak or dim—gaze upon the face of her Savior.

Her feet—no longer stumbling—walk softly along streets of gold.

Her heart—once again beating strong and sure—is filled to overflowing with perfect love.

And her arms? I’m quite sure they’re wrapped tightly around the loved ones she’s been missing for so long.

Granmon . . . she will be missed—her spark, her smile, and, of course, her malted milk cake. But only for a little while. Because we have a promise. For . . .

our citizenship is in heaven. (Philippians 3:20)

And, one day, our feet will walk along those same golden pathways, our eyes will gaze upon the face of our Savior, and our hearts will be perfectly filled.

And our arms? Oh yes, they’ll be wrapped tightly around Granmon and all those loved ones we’ve been missing. That’s the wonder of God’s promises, and that’s . . .

simply grace.

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