happy birthday gram

september 11 means something different to me. while in no way diminishing the events of 2001, decades before, this day became special because it is the day that marjorie jean crease, my gramma, was born.

my gram was an amazing woman who lived a quiet, simple life. and like too many that visit this planet, her true value wasn't fully appreciated until after she left us. i remember writing in my journal on the day she died, that it seemed like just so much light was gone from our world.

so much of who i am today is because of this woman. she inspired me to write when i didn't even know i could. she believed in me when i could find nothing of any value in myself. she encouraged me to live my dreams, but to stay rooted where it mattered, with God and with family. she kicked my butt when i needed it, and she prayed. she prayed for me. a lot.

after she died, i remember selfishly feeling a loss, that she was no longer here praying, but was reminded, in the form of an e.m. bounds quote i had on a bulletin board, that,

"{prayer} is no fitful, short-lived thing. it is no voice crying unheard and unheeded in the silence. it is a voice which goes into God’s ear, and it lives as long as God’s ear is open to holy pleas, as long as God’s heart is alive to holy things. God shapes the world by it.

{prayers} are deathless. the lips that uttered them may be closed to death, the heart that felt them may have ceased to beat, but they live before God, and God’s heart is set on them and they outlive the lives of those who uttered them; they outlive a generation, outlive an age, outlive a world. that man is the most immortal who has done the most and the best service of calling on God. they are God heroes, God’s saints, God’s servants, God’s vicegerents.

i believe that her prayers still echo over my and my family's lives today.

on december 3, 2008 it will be 13 years since the sunday morning that she left us...and judging by the hole still in my heart, it hardly seems possible that it could be that long. to quote sandra mccracken in her song portadown station, i still hear her 'voice in my head, but i miss the sound'. sometimes more than i can still believe.

happy birthday, gram. i love you and miss you always.