Today at 2:16am...

... my Grandpa died.

When you find out something like that, it makes you wonder things- not in coherent sentences but rather, in a dense cluster of words, emotions, and memories.

I wonder what his last thoughts were

If only I had known when I went to sleep at 12:24am

last night that he'd only have 2 hours left

Remember when it would piss you off that he would roll up his

candy wrappers and put them in the plant pots around the house?

What's going to happen now?

A while ago, I wondered why crying was the physiological response to sadness, pain, etc. Among many, the running theory is that crying suggests to your tribe members that you have been rendered either physically or emotionally impotent and are incapable of defending yourself from predators; it's a plea for help. This then made me wonder why some people cry by themselves. If crying is meant to address others around us, then why do we often times choose to do it without others present? I did it today.

Death is so inconvenient. I don't mean to say that to be cavalier- I'm just trying to call it out for what it is: it's confusing, it's eroding, it's painful, it's nonsensical, and more often than not, it feels poorly timed. It's wrong. This isn't the way that God intended it to be and this must be why it's so confusing: it wasn't in the original floor plan (go acquaint yourself with Genesis and then fast-forward to the end of the story in Revelation)

I believe in Jesus for more reasons than the fact that I don't understand death and that I hope there is an afterlife; in other words, I believe in Jesus for more than a fear or aversion of the unknown. But, in this moment, to be completely honest, I am glad that that is what I believe: that Jesus conquered death and that, in Him, He let's us do it, too.

As the great C.S. Lewis once said, "We don't have a soul. We are a soul. We have a body." I hope you're finally rested Grandpa.