Tears slowly rolled down my face, catching me off-guard. It'd been over seventeen years since my grandmother died; I wasn't prepared for that wave of grief. I felt a longing for her wisdom, sadness for what I missed. Grandma suffered from Alzheimer's and had not had the chance to pass on nuggets of wisdom gained in her life.
Yet the Lord knew that she did not need words. Her living witness in two areas would etch into my heart, speaking volumes to me.
She often said, "It is what it is," as if to shrug off worry. It seemed she took life in stride, more like Mary than Martha (Luke 10:38-42).
I'd be willing to bet that my grandmother's acceptance of challenges and joys alike grew through constant prayer.
She always had a rosary with her; I once found one under her pillow. This curious—seemingly "old fashioned"—habit of hers stuck with me. Now I'm the woman with a rosary and prayer book always near, in my truck, on my dresser, in my purse, even under my bed pillow. I find myself clutching my rosary through the night, seeking consolation and hope.
From all eternity, the Father knew who I would be, and what examples of surrender and faith I would need. "With all my ways you are familiar" (Psalm 139:3). He knew that my grandmother's strength in prayer and willing surrender to each day would guide me in my adult life.
And while as a girl I wondered at the rosary in her bed, as a grown woman I now see her surrender in faith and trust to lay all the cares of the day at His feet even into the darkest hours.
My grandmother's life taught me any time is the right time to pray.
I gained her silent witness to choose the better part. I gained an outlook of surrender to God's grace in every moment, made possible by turning to Him in all things and at any hour.