This term fascinated me from the first moment I learned it. I wanted to write about it but could not find a fitting way until Grandma Casey passed away the evening on January 3rd. She was a woman who embodied strength and courage. Looking at her, you would never expect it - she was eshet chayil in the most unlikely figures.
Why so unlikely? She should not have lived. Conceived in unfortunate circumstances, born with a defect that should have given her a premature life expectancy, and raised as an unwanted child, Lois Casey was a woman who defied all odds. To see her, you would never know she was winning in a life where the cards she was dealt were stacked against her. However, I didn’t know she was a woman of such valor until later in life.
My earliest memories were the weekly phone calls which served as our Saturday morning alarm clock. It was 8am in Yukon but 6am on the west coast. She would greet me and my brother with love and compassion then talk with my dad to stay current with the events of our lives. One summer, my brother and I spent part of our vacation staying at her house. She spoiled us, it was the first time I ever ate Fruity Pebbles. It was a cereal my parents would never buy for us but grandma believed kids deserved to eat fun food. This was the grandma I grew up with. Cheerful, good natured, caring, and a little rambunctious.
When I was a teenager, grandma revealed to us the truth of her birth and childhood, stories she had not told anyone. It was then we began to see the warrior spirit inside her petite frame, wrinkled skin, and gentle voice. She remained faithful to loving her husband, her kids and grandkids, her church, and her friends. She welcomed strangers and acted as their host as if she were entertaining Jesus. She took her role as a Christian seriously and devoted her life to being the voice and hands of God to anyone who needed it.
The disability she was born with should have stunted her life span, instead it only stunted her height, and it could not withhold the giant inside her. She prayed with unimaginable power. If she was going to pray for you, it was known she would be relentless in her appeals to God until she got an answer. She was a firecracker with the passion aflame in her eyes. The compassion she carried ignited her, directing everything she did. Grandma Casey was fierce in the lengths she went to demonstrate God’s love for everyone she encountered.
When Grandpa Casey passed, she could have enjoyed her latter years as a doting grandmother. Instead she became ordained and devoted her life to ministry. She became an inspiring beacon of light. She taught us to expect the unexpected, to see miracles in the most mundane and unlikely places.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve known Grandma was praying for me. She prayed for my health and protection through the most devastating days of my life. She prayed for my success in the throws of defeat. She prayed that I would love others and be completely loved. No matter my circumstances, I knew the power of grandma’s prayers and the encouragement of her words were only a phone call away. Seven and a half years ago, I made such a phone call to return the favor.
When my wife and I first met, we didn’t want to publicize it. We wanted to take the time to get to know each other before we introduced our friends and family. We kept it secret for a few months, not mentioning the details of our dates on social media, and enjoying this period of newfound romance free from outside influences. Around this same time, Grandma’s health began to decline. My dad texted me one day to let me know she had been moved to hospice and would likely be with us for only a few more days.
Sitting that night in my church parking lot, I dialed her phone number and had a beautiful conversation with her. I also let her know I had found someone special. I broke my rules for grandma because I could not bear the thought of her leaving this world without knowing I was going to be OK. Grandma Casey was the first person on this planet to know I had fallen in love. I did so because she was a woman of valor. I knew that if she would be in prayer through her dying breath, she would include my future wife in her appeals before God.
Then, as often was the case with Grandma Casey, a miracle happened. Her health mended and life continued. She remained a warrior. She bravely approached the end of her life, giving time for my father, my aunt Iona, and my aunt Phyllis to visit and spend time at her side, sharing with them the unassailable joy and stubborn will God created deep in her soul.
Slowly, age took over. Her body and mind weakened. Yet her spirit persevered. In her final days, she continued to demonstrate courage and strength. She was ready to see Jesus face to face. She was ready to be reunited with her Harvey. She was ready to go home.
Today, and in the years to come, it is my hope for those who knew her to remember her as a warrior - brave and bold with a mischievous streak. I will forever know her as a Proverbs 31 lady, eshet chayil, a woman of valor.
She kept her head in all situations, endured hardship, and did the work of an evangelist. She fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith. Now she has been awarded a crown of righteousness. Today she stands in strength and glory, receiving the words “Well done Lois Casey, good and faithful servant. Welcome home.”
