Well Done

Last Sunday night, I felt the presence of God.

Laying in bed, iPod on, trying to settle my brain down, I heard the first lines of the song, Well Done:

I just wanna make it to Heaven.

I thought about skipping it -- gospel music isn't the easiest to fall asleep to -- but I let it play.

I focused hard on the lyrics as my mind wandered.

About a third of the way through the song, I started crying. Buried my face in my pillow, let sobs break, and felt it hit.

I knew then that Pappy -- my grandpa, my mom's dad -- was gone.

Laying there, crying, music playing, I just knew. And I felt God's comfort.

Not in any tangible way, just in knowing it was okay to cry, it was time to cry, and here's a song speaking of where Pappy is, what he's experiencing now.

Late the following morning, after chapel, my dad called and gave me the news. I'd already cried.