Living on the Right Course

This was the title of the sermon my Grandpa, the Rev. Glenn H. Lutz, preached on August 7th, 1983 at the First Presbyterian Church in Las Vegas, Nevada. He passed away seven days later hiking up in the Ruby Mountains with a church youth group. Talking with my Grandmother years later she revealed to me that she knew when he died. She felt it deep within her being. As hard as his passing was for her, I know she felt comfort knowing that my Grandpa passed away in a place that was special to him, doing something he loved. May we all be so lucky.
My brother Greg, just yesterday, gave me a copy of his last sermon which I just finished reading. It brought back memories of my Grandpa - preaching on Sunday mornings, dressed in "robes". He always looked so regal to me. I remember weekends spent at Grandpa and Grandma's and popping in to Grandpa's office in their house where he was working on his sermon for Sunday. I always told him I loved him and got a great big hug from him. I enjoyed those few minutes of time I had with him and he never seemed to mind being interrupted. I remember Thanksgiving meals at our house, or their house and my Grandpa saying Grace before our meal. (I also remember my Dad humorously sayng his own grace - "Thank you Lord for this grub, now let's eat!" and my Grandpa not really finding the humor in it- though in my Dad's defense, my Grandpa could be long-winded :) It's funny how certain things, like reading my Grandpa's last sermon, can bring back bits of memories of things you hadn't thought of in years or thought you had even forgotten.
My Grandpa baptised me when I was a baby and 43 years later, I still feel a connection to him because of that. I like knowing that. I loved my Grandpa, and it was nice revisting some long forgotten memories. I'm honored to be his granddaughter...... You wrote a great sermon, Grandpa.