Wonderstruck (19 page)

Though I kept my mourning to myself, my mom and aunt felt freer to well up with emotion. After much discussion, they decided that one of them would spread Grandpa’s ashes near Grandma’s remains at their home in Idaho the following summer. Instead of a formal funeral, we’d celebrate Grandpa’s life by inviting a few of his friends to attend church together. The idea struck me as unusual, but it couldn’t be stranger than having a professional-poker-playing, speedboat-world-record-setting grandfather.

On Sunday morning, I buckled in for the drive to church then unclicked the seatbelt and bounded out of the car. “What are you doing?” my mother asked.

“If this is the closest thing I’m going to get to attending a funeral for my grandfather, then I think he should be there!” I said. I ran back inside the house and grabbed Grandpa’s black plastic canister.

My mother and aunt glanced at each other as we backed down the driveway. Sitting in the backseat with Grandpa on my lap, my mind replayed scenes from
Weekend at Bernie’s
, the 1980s dark comedy about two employees who try to convince everyone their boss is still alive by carrying his corpse around with them.

When we arrived at church, I realized I didn’t have an appropriate carrier for Grandpa. I managed to slide him into my aunt’s purse before Grandpa’s friends surrounded us. Betty, an eighty-something pal, boasted curlicue white hair and a sugary-sweet disposition. Irene, a weathered seventy-something poker player from the casino, explained that she had played countless hands of poker with Grandpa over the years. Her eyes welled up every time Cactus Jack’s name was mentioned. Dorothy, a sixty-something blackjack dealer, sported a form-fitting, black nylon dress. Each one of these women greeted me with a hug and spoke of the kindnesses my grandfather had showed them.

The service opened with a hymn then paused to welcome new visitors. We introduced ourselves. The pastor acknowledged my grandfather’s support of the church and offered his condolences. Then he invited the congregation to join in singing another hymn. During the Scripture reading, I pulled Grandpa out of my aunt’s satchel and sat him next to me on the pew. I figured Grandpa should sit in his favorite pew in the back one last time. Knowing his colorful, nontraditional character, I have a hunch he would have smiled at the scene.

The pastor delivered a short sermon on the resurrected Christ. As he spoke, I found comfort in knowing Grandpa was in the presence of Jesus. I imagined Jesus open-armed, my grandfather wide-eyed at his first face-to-face encounter. Glancing down the pew at the motley crew of gamblers, casino employees, and one woman easily mistaken for a hussy, I was bashed broadside: these were the exact people Jesus embraced. The love and grace of God didn’t discriminate. Considering those who played blackjack with Cactus Jack, it’s easy to understand how the invitation to experience the abundant life of Christ extends to all.

We returned home the next day. Over the next few weeks, my mind drifted back to my grandfather. Even with his flaws and unconventional life, Cactus Jack had passionately answered the call to become a follower of Christ. Scenes of my grandfather duck hunting and smoking trout flashed through my mind. I breathed in the memory of the stale cigar smell of
my grandparents’ motor home that was always parked in their driveway. Slathered in Jesus-festival bumper stickers, the rusty beast had traveled nearly two hundred thousand miles traversing the country before finally being sold for scrap metal.

I cherish the memory of my grandparents’ large-print Bible, which always sat beside their bed. Nearly every page was marked up with illegible comments and underlined phrases. Once I opened the Bible upright, and a cascade of photos, letters, and notes from family members fluttered to the floor like confetti. Each note and image reminded my grandparents to pray for us as they read and studied the Bible. I could almost hear my grandfather walking around the house humming hymns blaring from their eight-track-tape player.

Etched into my mind is also my grandparents’ generosity. Every day their mailbox overflowed with solicitations for donations from orphanages, overseas outreaches, nonprofits serving the poor. They received more free address labels from ministries than anyone I’ve ever known. I once asked my grandmother why they seemed to be on every ministry’s mailing list.

“Because we support them all,” my grandmother told me.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, shocked by their readiness to give despite their limited income.

“Sometimes we can only send them five or ten dollars, but we always manage to send something,” she said matter-of-factly. “God’s always provided for us, so we need to help provide for others.”

After the church service, one of Grandpa’s friends leaned over and said, “Your grandmother led more people to Christ at the slot machines than any woman I’ve ever known.”

Her comment made me realize that both my grandparents had left a legacy of love in what some would consider low places.

My grandfather didn’t just color outside the lines of life, he scribbled outside them, too, but in the process he laid hold of God and helped others do the same. Growing up, I often heard stories about my grandfather’s behavior at the poker table. While other players were foul-mouthed and demeaning of the casino staff, my grandfather was a gentleman—courteous and considerate of everyone. His kind behavior earned him the opportunity to share his faith with others. On multiple occasions, he ended a poker match with a fellow player accepting Christ. My grandmother managed to transform a slot machine into a pulpit of sorts, inviting strangers to entrust their lives to someone greater than Lady Luck.

As I thought about my grandfather, I realized he didn’t
just
live, he
truly
lived.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
²
The abundant life begins when we choose to live our lives for God. We experience this fullness as we discover
facets of God’s character through Scripture, encounter his faithful presence in our daily lives, and respond to God’s voice as he leads and directs us. The abundant life begins here on earth as we choose to align our whole selves with God and continues as we abide with God forever. The eternal abundant life we’re called to starts now and never ends.

Though I had studied the theological and heady meaning behind Christ’s promise of full life, in my imperfect grandfather, I saw the abundance lived out. Rather than become distracted by the fear of that which steals, kills, and destroys, my grandfather focused his attention on the One who came to bring life. He tackled each day with the hopeful anticipation that God would bring good things, and even if he didn’t, God remained good.

Reflecting on my grandfather’s life, I can’t help but think of how many of us fail to embrace the abundant life Christ promises. Focusing on our areas of weakness or imperfection, we convince ourselves that we’re outside the realm of being used by God.

We lose sight of the long line of biblical men and women who followed God, even changing history, despite blemishes on their records, flaws in their character. We gloss over the details: Rahab lived sultry and David committed adultery; Abraham lied, Peter denied, Jacob vied; once the weather turned fine, Noah turned to wine; Thomas doubted, Martha pouted, Elijah spouted. Somewhere along the way, the rhyme overtakes our
reason: we forget that history is filled with God using imperfect, broken people to accomplish his will and bring glory to his name.

And that gives me great hope.

Such a legacy isn’t a hall pass to live a defective life but a wild invitation to embrace the abundant life—seeking God in every situation, sharing the good news wherever we find ourselves, and never sitting on the sidelines of the grand experience of living.

Instead of cruising through life, my grandfather left this world wholly spent, coasting on fumes from a life fully lived. Grandpa made many mistakes, but he never failed to celebrate the grandeur of life and the earnestness of living. Cactus Jack refused to live sleepy. Instead, he embarked each day wide-eyed to the possibilities. He discovered the wonder of the abundant life, and the legacy he gave me is one I want to lay hold of—loving God and others, taking risks, trying new things, learning to find joy in each day as a gift.

Cactus Jack embraced the life many are afraid to live. Too many of us play and pray it safe. We allow our aspirations to stay in our heads, our goals to remain barely outside our grasp. Life becomes a series of unrealized hopes and dreams. Rather than engage in the fullness of life, we remain on the sidelines and pass up uncounted opportunities. Our fears become greater than the hope of the One who came to bring us abundant life.

What is keeping you on the sidelines of life? What have you
convinced yourself is impossible with God? Where have you allowed fear to replace faith? What’s stopping you from moving forward? Or taking your first step toward change? Even if you stumble, you may find your dream expanding into something even more enchanting than you ever imagined.

I needed to stop mourning the loss of my grandfather’s life and start celebrating the life my grandfather lived. Cactus Jack laid hold of his dreams and left this world having given everything. And that kind of life, the abundant kind, was worth celebrating. I knew I needed to throw a party.

More than a year later, I drove down to the local bakery to pick up a birthday cake I had special ordered. I noticed the baker’s befuddled expression as he brought a large box to the counter. He took a second look at me before opening the lid.

“This what you wanted?” he asked.

I nodded. Next to a silver slot machine sat five cards revealing a royal flush—each heart reflective of my love for my grandfather. Below the unbeatable poker hand were the words “Happy Birthday, Cactus Jack” in lime-green icing.

Returning home, I worked alongside Leif to prepare the last few appetizers. Soon my friends arrived for the untraditional celebration. Halfway through the party, I paused to make a toast to my grandfather.

Then I grabbed a handful of tortilla chips from the bowl on our living room table, looked across the crowded room of friends, and thought,
This is the way he would have wanted it
.

I’
VE SHARED MY JOURNEYS WITH YOU
hoping to inspire you to experience God more for yourself. As followers of Jesus, we have the opportunity to live each day in wild amazement of God. If we pay attention, we can begin discovering the wonders all around us—those moments of spiritual awakening that spark our curiosity to know God more.

If the desire to encounter God’s wonder has been stirred inside of you, consider picking up a copy of the
Wonderstruck Bible Study
(Lifeway) as a companion to this challenge so you can more fully experience the wonder alongside others.

Here’s your challenge: Over the next month, find a friend who will commit to praying for wonder each day and then together live alert to the ways God answers. That means that over the next thirty days, you may sense the Holy Spirit leading you to do and say things you may have passed by before. You may find God nudging you to reach out to someone you’ve
never noticed. You may feel an urge that the person who is supposed to volunteer or get involved is
you
. Or you may sense the tug of the Holy Spirit to take more time diving into the Scriptures or taking time to pray. You may begin sensing God’s presence in places and experiences that you never expected.