I was sobered and moved to read this report of my grandfather's death due to pulminary fibrosis. I wasn't aware of all these details. The disease must have been terrifying - you literally drown in your own lungs. My grandfather would go through ten to fifteen-minute periods of struggling to get a breath - and when it would pass, he would worship and say, "This is God's gift to me." This pain, that choking alarm as you can't get enough air - that's was a gift, according to my Grampa. May God fill me with the same faith.
My grandfather was the warmest, most encouraging, most Spirit-filled man I've ever met. He just radiated warmth, peace, God's smile. His ability to encourage was, if not prophetic, as close to prophetic as you can get. I saw him do it more than once - Grampa would be talking with someone, and he would say something that would so wonderfully penetrate the other person that you could see their relief even physically. They would stand up straight and smile and kind of laugh, and the burden would have been lifted. If God makes me one-tenth of what he was, I'll die happy.
My grandfather was the warmest, most encouraging, most Spirit-filled man I've ever met. He just radiated warmth, peace, God's smile. His ability to encourage was, if not prophetic, as close to prophetic as you can get. I saw him do it more than once - Grampa would be talking with someone, and he would say something that would so wonderfully penetrate the other person that you could see their relief even physically. They would stand up straight and smile and kind of laugh, and the burden would have been lifted. If God makes me one-tenth of what he was, I'll die happy.
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