Living Well

I have started writing this blog post several times over the last couple days, but the right words just wouldn't come.  But my heart can't shake the thoughts and feelings, so here I am trying again.  

Last Thursday, my grandma passed away.
After loosing both our biological grandmas to cancer while we were young, this grandma {that we endearingly called 'Miss Marilyn'} was the only one we really knew.  She loved us as though we shared the same blood.

When your last memories together were following her around her garden as she proudly showed off her decades of growing experience, you don't expect to get a phone call that her heart failed.   That was just weeks ago.  How do you wrap your mind around her sudden absence in our lives?!

As I was walking towards the old, white funeral home; I remembered again how much I hate the finality of death.  I hate seeing the ones you love lying so cold and gone.  I hate the way they never look just like you remember.  I hate the final words at the graveside.  The walking away from that shell of someone who lived so feisty and alive.

Over this weekend, I was reminded again that as much as there is to hate; there is something in it that my heart needs.  A verse in the Bible says us that it is better to go to the house of mourning than a house of partying.  This is so contrary to the desire of my heart.  Give me balloons and dancing and birthday cake any day over a casket, a memorial, a last goodbye.

But when you are forced to stare the fragility of life in the face, it changes you.  It makes you stop and consider what truly matters.  Makes you realize how desperately you must squeeze every ounce of living from your days.  

It is in the face of loss that I gain a whole new perspective to life.

It reminds me that it's really ok that we didn't exchange anniversary gifts.  What matters is that we got to sit next to each other talk about our hopes and goals for this coming year. . .

That the hospital bills we will struggle to pay this year aren't the end of the world.  I am blessed to be alive. . . 

That the piles of dirty clothes and overflowing trash cans are just signs of life in our home. . .

That spit-up babies clothes aren't worth getting frustrated about.  Neither are poop stains in the little dude's cute summer outfit.

And most of all, I am reminded that my days with the best people in my life should be full of forgiveness, grace and love.  Not holding my ground in a conflict.  Not assuming my way is the best.  Because in the end, the things that seem so huge right now will quickly pale as I ask myself if I made the most of our times together.

All I really want to do is live my one life well.  
That is my heart cry.
I want to love well.  
Serve well.  

Remembering that each breathe, each action, each word; are all chances at a worshipful life for Jesus.


  1. beautiful Nicole. Thank you so much for writing this.

  2. your life is so inspiring!!!!

    I'm very sorry for your loos N.

  3. Love this post. I am so sorry for your loss. :(

  4. Wise words. I'm sorry to hear about your grandma.

  5. So sorry for your loss! I feel the exact same way about death!