A Radical Love

by guest blogger: Emily Evans

Last September, my grandmother celebrated her 90th birthday. She is the first person who taught me about Jesus, and she has prayed me for every single day of my life.   My grandfather died 27 years ago, long enough for babies to be born, grow up, get married, and have babies of their own (statistically speaking anyway).  

When I found out that she had a number of suitors and at least one proposal in the decade following my grandfather’s death, I asked her why she didn’t remarry. 

She told me she hit the jackpot the first time; there was no way she could ever find a man who equaled her first and only love.

My grandmother was 25 when she met the handsome Army medic, which practically made her a spinster in rural North Carolina.    

Together they buried a daughter and raised a son.  She still lives in the 2-bedroom, 1-bathroom house they bought 53 years ago. 

No fancy cars or expensive vacations.  No weekly date nights or “me” time or mission trips or blogs.

They lived simply and gave from what they had been given.  

They were radical Christians without ever thinking about it.

My grandfather was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis early in their marriage, so it fell to my grandmother to support the family.  She never complained, but considered it a blessing that she was able to serve in such a way.

Today we so often measure people by what they give us and we measure life by what we have.  Even some of the loudest voices in the Christian community think a man's masculinity is defined by his ability to provide for his family.  

But my grandfather gave his wife everything that mattered--a heart for Christ and a desire to love and serve her faithfully as long as they both lived.  I don't remember much about him, but he looms large in my imagination, a giant of the faith who had a kind word and a smile for everyone.

To me, their marriage is the stuff of legend.

I know that Scripture says there is no marriage in heaven, but I can't help but think that the day my grandmother is called home, my grandfather will run to meet her, and he'll take her to their Creator, who will look at them and say, "well done my good and faithful servants, for in all the love you gave each other, you loved me most of all."

Emily Evans (soon-to-be Haydysch!) lives and works in North Carolina.  She loves good books, chocolate chip cookies, and the beach, and thinks college basketball is winter's only redeeming quality.