The end can be a beginning.

Growing up, I was always boastful that I had all four grandparents still living.

How lucky I felt.

What a gift.

To have so many good years with them.

So many good memories with them.

Willie Robertson starts out his new book Gospeler by explaining that more than half of Americans can’t tell you the names of all four of their grandparents. I was privileged to love and be loved, know and be known, by all four of mine. Jack Edward Forrest, Ditha Pearl Highbaugh, Thomas Alexander McConnell, and Grace Annette Bosemer.

What I hadn’t realized, was that meant I’d have to watch them all go.

First Jackie, the bulldog. He fought so hard and wanted so badly to be free of pain.

Then Papa, our solid rock. Who just wanted to be strong again.

Now Memaw. My sunflower. Her body and mind have been so sick, and she just wanted to not be afraid.

Watching my loved ones pass has shown me two things. (Well lots of things, but two for now):

1. The massive impact a grandparent can make on a child’s life.

2. Life goes quickly. It is precious and it is a blink. We are all headed in the same direction, and there’s no medicinal effort that can change that.

It leaves me wondering, what am I doing with the little time I’ve been given?

I’ve always wanted to put my thoughts and words somewhere - but never knew where.

Once upon a time I dabbled with a blog. But I ran off into my teaching career, and then motherhood, and it got lost somewhere in the past. So, for years I’ve stored up my words in hundreds of notes on my phones and in stacks of journals by my bed. Sometimes I’d share online, but I tend to be too long-winded for a single social media post.

I hesitate starting another blog, thinking my words aren't worth sharing. Not worth reading.

But then I wonder, when it’s my turn to go, what will it matter?

Will I be thankful that I kept all of my words to myself, or that I finally did something with it all?

This season is especially motivating, when it feels as though our freedom of speech is being threatened. Therefore, it gives me all the more reason to share my words, and the encouragement of the gospel, as long as I can. And I hope that this might encourage you to do that thing that you’ve tucked away, up on the shelf, all these years.

“O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!”

Psalm 39:4-5