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Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.
Acts 2:38-39 NIV
Reverend Robert O. Brown, my paternal grandfather, lay in his recliner, his frail body shuddered beneath a blanket. Periodically convulsed with coughing spells, tears of exhaustion welled in his eyes. Cancer is a damnable disease. I sat across from Grandpa, we were alone. Grandma napped in the back bedroom. I was about to head for home.
“Phil, stay. I’ve got some things I want to share with you,” said Grandpa. I nodded, he began to talk. What followed was so unexpected. I received the gift of a story, the intimate personal story of my grandfather: his joys, his sorrows, disappointments and triumphs. I wept with him as he struggled to describe the loss of his sweet Alliene and his little buddy Philip, my namesake. No verbal veneer, pure raw honesty, palpable emotion—every bit of it intentional—this was his legacy, his gift to me.
Two hour’s passed in a nanosecond. “Phil, in the end, Christ is all that matters.” It was time to go. His chest heaved with sobs as I exited the door. He knew, I knew, this was goodbye until the far side of heaven. And it was. I carry his gift always. I sign my letters, “Be bold, Christ is all that matters.” I love you Grandpa, I’ll see you soon. “Christ is all that matters.”
