The Grandpa Series: Part Three: The Big One

I can't believe that it's been a month since my Pa went away.

This morning, I was giving my son a bath. Laughing at the silly things he was doing. And there I was again. It always stops me dead in my tracks. My Pa won't see him, won't know him anymore.  He won't know any of my kids anymore.

I still can't quite come to grips with the fact that I will never talk to him again.

Wow. Never. Again.

I miss the sweet possibility of him answering the phone. I miss the moments when the rest of my family got boring out of control when I'd always find him and strike up a good conversation. I miss him. Completely. Through and through.

And I'll be missing him for the rest of my life.

But there's always more to the story. There's always a silver lining. Always good.

[Insert promise: Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."]

There's always good because God is good.

The day it happened - one month ago - literally knocked me down. The pain, the heartbreak, the disbelief. And then there were all the motions to go through. Funerals. Eulogies. Obituaries. Hugs.

And somewhere amid all of that, God spoke.

He tends to get the last word in any and all of my circumstances. This one was no exception.

It's going to take some background info to explain the big one - the big lesson I learned, so stick with me.

You see, my Pa and I have a lot in common. We're both Cannadys. We both love classic country music. We both enjoy taking life easy. BUT there is an area where we differ significantly. That area is one that is so important to me. That area is our spiritual lives.

For me, almost any and every working of the Spirit is public knowledge. Six o'clock news. (Need proof? You're reading it.) You, my friends, have rights to my relationship with God. I'm blessed to be a blessing. I live to encourage another. I am a testifier. A sharer. I love to HELP others with anything that they're struggling with spiritually. I NEED others to make my own spiritual trek. I am, quite simply, an open book.

My grandpa, on the other hand, sort of shut down any time that I'd ask him questions about God, any time that I'd testify, or share some sort of GOOD NEWS about who Jesus is and what He's done in my life. I knew that my Pa revered God. I just couldn't understand why he didn't want to partake with me in shouting it from the rooftops. I had also noticed this same very private nature about spiritual things in other relatives of mine. It caused me to create a separation, to just not share my spiritual life and things that God was teaching me with my family. It was a real bummer. :(

When my Pa died, Josh, John, and I flew directly to Georgia the next day. I began a series of conversations with my Pastor that would significantly reshape my attitude about ministry. You see, Josh, John, and I live in an area where the people view spiritual things very DIFFERENTLY. Just to give a few examples, they refuse to eat at least two items (ribs and sour cream) that I deem two of the most delicious in the world. And right now, they refuse to eat. Period. (While it's light out). I began to connect the dots. Maybe I need to change my way of thinking about how to interact with certain people when I notice walls going up with seemingly no way to tear them down. Maybe I need to change. Not them.

My Pastor refused to give me any details about spiritual conversations that he had with my Pa (because that's what Delmo wanted). He only mentioned that he interacted with him in "the country way." After hearing these words, that's when I started kicking myself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Ashley.  I had been ministering to my Pa (and to my whole family) in the collegiate way, the intellectual way. God quietly whispered to me, "Ash, you had to learn this lesson in this way. Otherwise, it wouldn't have stuck in your heart quite as well." Then God gave me this verse: "... I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some." (1 Corinthians 9:22)

It was true. Maybe four weeks prior, I sat through a message in church preached from this exact passage. I took furious notes and even "Amen"-ed a couple of times. But I was not convinced. Not convinced in the life-changed parts of me. God taking my Pa to teach me. That's convincing. Convincing in the life-changed parts.

And then, as God does with His stubborn Ashley. He proved Himself yet again through His Word. The next day, my quiet time (time I spend with God reading the Bible/praying) was in Acts 15. Haven't read it? It's really challenging stuff. The Jerusalem Council. The story goes like this: Some Jews (who were probably accustomed to finding their "righteousness" in themselves/their own works rather than in God) were telling Gentiles (people whose men were uncircumcised) that they HAD to be circumcised to enter God's Kingdom/family. The leaders of the church realized that up to this point most believers had been Jews (whose men were already circumcised), so they sat down together to consider this question. These verses literally jumped off the page:

Acts 15:7-11: "After much discussion, Peter got up and addressed them: 'Brothers, you know that some time ago God made a choice among you that the Gentiles might hear from my lips the message of the gospel and believe. God, who knows the heart, showed that he accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as he did to us. He did not discriminate between us and them, for he purified their hearts by faith. Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the Gentiles a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." (emphasis mine)

Acts 15:19: "It is my judgment, therefore, that we should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God." (emphasis mine)

My Pastor understood this principle. He decided the day that he met my Pa that he would not make it difficult for the country boys who are turning to God. He decided to love Pa the way that Pa wanted to be loved, to share with Pa the way that Pa wanted to be shared with. And I may never know, but my Pastor's decision may have been the reason that he left this Earth with quiet assurance that his final resting place would be in the presence of Jesus. Thank God for my Pastor.

But what would happen if we all decided to live by this principle? If we became all things to all people? If we refused to make it difficult for the country boys or  the college students or the daughters of Ishmael who are turning to God? What if believers stopped being selfish and really started living intentionally so that OTHERS may know Him? What if it didn't require some special education or tools or some dynamic personality to follow Jesus and to help others follow Him? I don't know exactly what would happen, but I bet it'd be pretty amazing.

So, this lesson. This long, drawn-out lesson ... how has it affected my life? Well, I mentioned that I live in a sort of different neighborhood. I live in a neighborhood where wearing normal, everyday American clothes (you know, shorts, t-shirts, sundresses ... basically my everyday wardrobe) would raise a few eyebrows. And these eyebrows would be unseen by me (being underneath a face covering), but they would be eyebrows of the women who I most want to meet. Therefore, I am in the beginning stages of changing my wardrobe. That's right. Pants. Long sleeves. Long skirts. Long shirts. All for the sake of the One worth knowing. The One worth losing it all for.

I hope that my simple acts of modesty (and the Holy Spirit dwelling inside of me) will help me build lifelong friendships with people who view things just a tad bit differently from me. And I also hope that, in time, we will view one thing the same. Jesus is Lord. He is good (even in the bad). And He is Lord. Thanks for sticking with me through this long post.

Miss you, Pa.

The Grandpa Series: Part Two: The Farewell

My Pa passed from this life on Saturday, June 30, 2012. Josh, John, and I boarded a couple of planes home on Sunday, July 1, 2012. Upon arriving, we picked up Zaxby's. (My beloved Chick-fil-A was closed. [And only a true hungry ranger would include food details in a post about mourning the loss of a loved one; I was seriously hungry.]) After fueling, we were thrust into the funeral preparations. (MAYHEM.)

The first thing that I'd like to say about throwing a funeral together with my family is that we did it together. I am proud to say that together is the way in which my family works. Everyone's opinion matters. Everyone chips in. Everyone overlooks offenses when emotions are running high. Only the Cannady grand-girls (love you, Cal, Chris & Mink) could have such a wonderful time together running through town, sifting through thousands of pictures, and putting together the video tribute I'd always dreamed of for my Pa (which is included for your viewing pleasure at the end of this blog). [I also want to say another HUGE thank you to Christen for all of the time that she put into making our picture projects a success. I love you, Chris, and I know that you sacrificed dearly needed sleep because of said projects. You rock!]

I always knew that I wanted to speak at my Pa's funeral. It was decided very soon after my arrival at Ma's house that it would be so. I am a weirdo. I love public speaking. I also enjoy testifying about the Lord, Christ. I never really worried about not getting through what I had to say. I never worried that I would cry and be too upset. I never worried ... until everybody and their brother, mama, and sister's uncle started saying to me: "I just couldn't do it." I decided in my heart that I could because I would trust God.

Trust Him I did. I have never felt more honored than sitting on the platform of my church at Pa's funeral. A man who was a hero in the eyes of many. And I was on the platform. But the reason that I felt so honored is because I know that my Pa would have wanted me there. I know that my Pa adored me. I know that he was so proud of me. I know that he loved spending time with me (putting Cal's pack-n-play together Christmas of '08 [precious memory], riding in his truck listening to bluegrass and the like, eating boiled peanuts and talking about anything at the river, sitting at countless softball games, the list goes on and on). I know that he was proud of me that day too. Because God got me through.

I spoke about Jesus. And how Jesus is the Source. He is the Creator. My Pa ... just a man ... made marvelously in His image. Any good that you saw in him, a dim reflection of the One who made him.

I spoke about my family. How thankful we all were and continue to be for the food, cards, flowers, phone calls, hugs, tears you cried with us/for us, and the love that you shared. Thank you again from Sweetie (Viv), the original Shaggy Head (Stevie), Ms. Shar-ON (Sharon), Chrissy-Lou (Christen), Toot (Minkey/Taylor), Pud-Head (Sherry), Flossie Jo-Belle (that would be me), Josh-dee-way (Josh), Monkey John (John Ashley), Er-tail (Calley), Ricky (as himself), Jeremiah Johnson (Mason), Charc (Lisa), Shag (Dannie), and Bosephus (Joseph). Did I mention that Pa had a nickname for almost everyone he knew? :)

I talked about how Jesus invites mere men to walk on water (building off of our song selection in our video tribute). You can read more about how Peter literally walked on water through faith in Christ in Matthew chapter 14.

But mostly I just read. I read this poem that I wrote because I knew that talking all day about how great of a Pa I was blessed with was not an option. I call it Crazy Delmo poem. May y'all can help me think of a better title?

My Pa was born in '33
on a blessed Christmas Eve
named for a popular country group
Cleaon Delmo Cannady


He was the baby of his bunch
beloved from day one
I heard that he skipped most of first grade
because his sister was such fun


I also heard he loved basketball,
a champion through and through,
and that he was named most handsome
at Oak Park High School


Then he married my Gram,
his partner in this life
I wonder if he knew back then
how blessed he was to have such a wife


Connie Gail was born really soon
and taken much too young
Thank God for Ronald Stevie,
his one and only son


God also gave him daughters,
Sherry Ann and Lisa Beth
They knew even as he was raising them
he was a cut above the rest


I know that he'll be remembered
as one of the greatest dads,
but his influence stretched much further
That's why today so many are sad


You see, in February of 1986,
my Pa welcomed a baby girl
A granddaughter was
added to the mix


That granddaughter was me,
a new heart to treasure and love,
but who would've dreamed the bond that would form
only God above


My Pa was my hero
from the moment that we met,
and the many moments after
much time did he invest


He taught me how to plant watermelon,
he taught me to be fair,
he taught me to be courageous,
my God-given gifts to share


But mostly what he taught me
as I look back on his life
He showed me what a man should be,
what true masculinity looks like


In the jaded world,
people think that men are dogs
that they never keep their word,
and only marry to be the boss


but my Pa showed me another way,
a higher, unselfish love
he pointed me to Jesus
as he sacrificed for his own


Because, you see, I've never doubted
that God would take care of me
I believe that lack of doubt stems from
the way Pa loved his family


But the 1986 baby,
she wasn't the only one
In 1987,
he welcomed his only grandson


And I shouldn't speak for Joseph,
but I will anyway
His Pa has been his example,
footsteps to follow day by day


Then Christen, Cal & Mink completed our POF
Party of Five for those who missed out
Oh, the memories!
The Cannady grandkids are the best


Pa was a great sport
playing along through our madness
From his tin foil grill to ice cream overkill
now all we feel is sadness


But I guess we are the lucky ones
to feel such a void
So many lose grandparents
who have never brought them joy


Our Pa gave us so much,
and he invested in our friends
Always smiling, picking, and welcoming
saying, "Y'all, come on in!"


Then when Jeremiah Johnson
and Monkey John came along,
my Pa was their favorite,
and they his Last Song


I miss you, Pa, so desperately,
and it's only been a day
I so long to see you a-swinging
as I pull into your driveway


You may have never known
how much you meant to me
How if it weren't for you
how lost that I would be


You were the man in my life
for oh so many years
You gave me hope for one day
and eased away my fears


And now I'm married to someone
who reminds me so much of you
I have high hopes for our future,
that one day we too


can look back on our lives together,
and know that we were true
true to each other, true to our children,
true to those God gives us too


So, my dear Pa, know this,
you are daily, crazy missed
We love you, we love you, we love you,
no one loves you more than this


than this little, insignificant granddaughter
whose life has been so blessed
Blessed to know you, blessed to lose you, 
Praise Jesus, Pa, enter into your rest

If you have stuck with me until this point, you are a trooper! Thanks for taking the time to read all of this. I have a few random thoughts about his funeral that I want to record before I close. 1. I think that he is the most handsome dead man I've ever seen. Seriously, if you saw him, did he look good or what?? 2. I kissed him and touched him and cherished every minute that I spent with his shell of a body. Is that weird? Maybe. But I knew we'd be putting him in the ground on July 3, and that I'd never see him again in that body. I wanted to get all of the affection out that I could. [Miss you, Pa.] 3. I actually really enjoyed visitation. Thanks to everyone who came to encourage and support my family. It was a lot of fun to see you all. 4. I started crying at "I miss you, Pa, so desperately" in the poem. I couldn't see the paper well for the remainder of the poem. [I just might want to remember this tidbit in twenty years.] 5. I also learned not to judge anyone for how they grieve. My personality preference in ENFP. Without getting into too much detail, I feel internally, which means that I may not have crying fits with/in front of others. I internalize my emotions, and I tend to get them out only when extremely necessary. I found myself feeling guilty about this at times. I thought, "I should be crying more. I should lose it right now. This was my Pa. Why am I not more outwardly upset?" I also thought that other people would judge me for the way that I grieved/am grieving my Pa's death. I hope that we can all allow people the space and the freedom to do what they need to do when they lose a loved one.

So, you made it to the end. Good for you. I will reward you with a very special video.

Isiah 32:15-18 (promise that God gave me about Pa following his bone cancer diagnosis)
...till the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, and the desert becomes a fertile field, and the fertile field seems like a forest. Justice will dwell in the desert and righteousness live in the fertile field. The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.

The Grandpa Series: Part One: The News

I want to stop you from reading right now if you do not want to hear and understand the way that my Pa's death has affected me. I adored this man, and some of the emotions that I record may not be pretty. With that being said, writing = healing for me. Thus, I write. 

June 30, 2012 began as an extremely lazy Saturday in the Beam household. Neither Josh nor I felt like doing much of anything because our tired little window units were also succumbing to exhaustion making for a very HOT Saturday in our home. 

Then God decided it was time to really turn up the heat. 

Josh was the first to receive a phone call. I can always tell  when he is talking to a Cannady family elder because his voice gets all serious, and a disproportionate amount of yes-sirs come out of his mouth. He knew before I did (which was probably a good thing), then he looked for my phone, which, of course, was ringing. 

I answered. 

My mama on the other line: "Ash-Mo, I've got some bad news, and I only have a minute to talk."

Me: "Okay."

Mama: "We lost Pa this morning."

Me (calmly): What? (hoping I'd misheard her)

Mama: "We lost Pa, baby. He's gone."

In hindsight, I wish that I'd been able to control my emotions a little better. Composure. It's a gift that I've been given. I can remain composed in somewhat fearful situations, but not this time. My mama (in the car with my grandma following the ambulance to the hospital) would listen to several minutes of incessant sobbing. 

I literally fell off the couch when she re-told me the news. Never in my life has something literally knocked me down like the news of my Pa's death. I was stunned. Sickened. Heartbroken. 

Sure, he'd been sick. He'd been suffering. I knew that one day he would leave us, but I never wanted it to be today. It was always in the future in my mind. My Pa was seated on the riverbanks when I imagined my elementary school-aged son playing in its waters. He was there in the hospital room when I gave birth to a little girl. He always answered the phone when I imagined calling Ma and Pa from our future overseas home. (Oh, how I wish I could hear him answer the phone. No one on earth answered the phone in quite the same way.) He was there. Always. 

I had to try to learn to accept this news on June 30, 2012, but I just couldn't do it. I had never lost anyone like him, so I didn't know how to go about accepting it. My attempt led me to Wendy's. And it led me to open my Bible, which led me to God. [I really don't know how unbelievers grieve. And how they get through losing someone. I think that I would be in such a terrible place right now if I didn't know God and feel His comfort and presence.] 

And then I drove. I drove and I prayed. Then I stopped driving (so not to endanger anyone's life). I screamed and cried until I had no voice. In the end, God knew that I was not happy about losing my Pa. God knew that I hated it. And God knew that I wanted something eternally good to come out of it. For me, I asked God to give me the blessing of His presence through this season (and through forever). For me, I asked God to give me the privilege of intimately, deeply knowing Him. 

And then I drove some more. I listened to one of my favorite Christian rappers (check him out), K.B. One of my favorite songs of his is called "Brand New" ... [waiting music, waiting on the new Heaven, new Earth]. I am attaching the lyrics of this song to the end of this post for your encouragement. 

Pa's leaving us has helped me cement how I want to live my life, especially regarding what kind of parent I want to be. Remember how I told you that he was always there in my dreams for our future? Well that's what I've decided that I will be. Always there. Present. But not just present like - "Oh yeah, there's my mom over there." Present like understanding his needs moment by moment. Reading to him - the same book - over and over and over. Nursing him just to keep him close (not because he needs it nutritionally). Considering his wants/needs over my own day in and day out (because not only was that the way that my Pa parented/grand-parented; that's also the way that Jesus parents His kids). 

I miss you, Pa, every day. 

My name is Ashley Beam. I am Delmo Cannady's oldest granddaughter. I intend to make Mr. Cannady very proud.

Brand new, (Who is KB?)

Brand new, (Waiting for the new earth new)
Behold I'll make all things (I'm a slave for the Lord Jesus Christ)
Brand new, (I'm a nobody, here to tell everybody)
Brand new, (about somebody, who could save anybody)
Behold I'll make all things brand new (Let's go!)

Uh, suffer will reign,
Homie we live that-that's just not a cliche,
The Christian life is not a piece of heaven on earth
But bless God, we get the peace of heaven on earth
'Cause we know all things, even the hard things,
Work together to make us look more like our King
Yeah, He's with us in this storm,
Sickness or health, dead or alive, I'm a child of God
Some say God doesn't want you to suffer but where they saw that?
We don't pray for a lighter cross, but a stronger back
(It's not about) the comfort, good life, and security
You will feel pain but he's breaking you for maturity
Girl, believe He's for you,
It's OK like abbreviatin' Oklahoma
Child of God, believe He's for you,
It's OK like abbreviatin' Oklahoma

Lord, come quickly put your return on fast forward
When the sun does the sky like it does your dashboard
Something's better coming this life is a passport
Only glory set before me, what I'm feeling bad for?
No more Christians getting slandered on the media
No more baby girl, say bye to leukemia
No more persecution like gal in China,
Who's been tortured for many days and we still can't find her
Straighten passion-depression, struggles with trust
No more goin' to Wal-Mart havin' to war against lust
Glorified bodies are stronger, not mere men
And ladies (hey), you get your clear skin!
No veil, no blurs, you'll worship our God
No sin, no end, till the Lord God
We wait, content, with Christ today,
We cry hard to give Him more tears to wipe away
It's waitin' music

Brand new,
Brand new,
Behold I'll make all things (Can't wait to see You)
Brand new, (Lord)
Brand new, (This rapper has one audience)
Behold I'll make all things brand new (In the midst of many, we glorify...Jesus.)

I am what I am, by the grace of God.