Category Archives: Grandparenting

The Reveal

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It was last Memorial Day when we had our first inkling that a new baby was coming. Linnea had flown from Florida to Michigan to attend her sister Birgitta’s wedding open house. And as we ran errands together, she surprised us with her lovely secret – that another baby would be joining us in January.

Fast-forward to summer when the 26 members of our family were together in Michigan. Linnea’s pregnancy had passed its half way mark, and she and Adam had learned the baby’s gender. Much to our happiness, they wanted to share it with us all. 

We planned a Reveal Party after dinner with a special dessert: a cake with either pink or blue frosting in the middle. Only the two parents knew what was inside.

Throughout the day the 12 grandchildren, ages 10 and under, eagerly anticipated the announcement. Boy or girl? Which team?

As the hours went by, the children shared their hopes with each other… boys rooting for blue frosting, girls for pink. And when the moment came, Linnea cut a plump piece of cake and lifted it to reveal — it was pink!

The girls broke into squeals of delight, the boys stood silent, and the adults got a good chuckle over both responses. But pretty quickly the 12 kids shifted from gender-focus to cake-focus. The rest of us, though, were thankful for a glimpse of what God was doing within Linnea, excited to know a little something about who he was creating.

It was God’s idea to establish 9 months as the time it would take for him to make a baby. Of course he could do this intricate work in an instant, but he chooses to take his time. Maybe it’s similar to the way he formed the first human from clay. I wonder how long he took on that project. My guess is…. 9 months.

These days God still takes his time forming babies inside their mothers. I like to think he enjoys the long, complicated process during that time when only he holds the secrets to who he’s working on.

Fast forward to January and the birth of our May Evangeline. At the time of the Reveal Party, we were thrilled to learn one fact about her: that she would be a girl. Now the whole of her has been revealed, and we know all kinds of things–-her name, the circumstances of her birth, what she looks like, and that she’s easy-going. But just think about how much God knows about her.

He sees her life stretched out from beginning to end and knows every emotion she’ll experience, what she’ll look like as an adult, who her friends will be, what interests she’ll have, whether or not she’ll marry or become a mother, and everything else about her.

But though God sees it all, his Reveal Parties of new information will happen  only one day at a time. He has revealed one long-term fact about little May, though — that he hopes she’ll always trust him to take care of the life he’s given her.  

“It was You who created my inward parts. I was made in secret.” (Psalm 139:13,15)

Is that you?

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In August, my 12 grandchildren all came visiting, and for this grandma it was absolutely glorious. Normally these kids are separated by thousands of miles, and there are no words good enough to describe the deep satisfaction I felt when this pint-sized crowd came together.

Burned in my memory is the moment the two groups stood face-to-face for the first time – 6 from the UK, 6 from the USA. (Most were too little to remember a visit 4 years ago, and some hadn’t even been born yet.)

Thankfully, social media has allowed bits of communication between them over the years, but in that first meeting at my house this summer, the 12 of them stood looking at each other – in the flesh at last – and didn’t know what to say. It was a wow-moment I’ll never forget witnessing as they stood looking at each other without a word.

Then Skylar, the oldest at age 10 (on the right), pointed at one of her British cousins. “Are you Evelyn?” 

“Yes!” Evelyn said (on the left). “And you are…. Skylar?”

“Right!”

Laughter followed, along with further introductions, and as the encounter unfolded, I felt I’d been given a gift. The proof of its value was that I had goose-bumps on a hot summer day.

It didn’t take long for these 12 young relatives to link arms and run off together, ready to share in some brand new cousin-fun.

That night, while I was thanking God for these precious grandchildren, he gave me a special thought. One day I will meet Jesus – in the flesh at last – and there just might be some similarities to what I watched happen earlier that day as my grandkids met.

I already know some things about Jesus from Scripture, which is sort of like divine social media. I know him, but the two of us have never met in the flesh. And sometimes I try to imagine what that’ll be like.

The words to a song entitled “I can only imagine” are wondering the same thing:

Will I dance for you Jesus
Or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all?

Though I’ve anticipated meeting Jesus my whole life, the only thing I know for sure is that when the moment comes, I’ll have goose-bumps…. no matter what the weather. When I stand in front of him, my guess is there will be a momentous silence like what my grands experienced. After that, our face to face meeting will surely prompt deep joy and maybe even some shared laughter.

And then, just like my 12, Jesus and I may hurry off together, arm-in-arm, ready to share in some brand new brother-sister fun.

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

A Reason to Cry?

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LunchI’ve never cried over spilt milk, though recently I groaned a little. My 12 grandchildren had just enjoyed a lunch of leftovers and were obediently bringing their dirty dishes from the deck tables to the kitchen. That was when one of them stumbled, spilling half a glass of milk into the open silverware drawer.

And I groaned.

If he’d have tripped one short step further, the spill would have been a simple floor puddle, easily cleaned. Several of us watched the milk drizzle through the silverware, recognizing the set-back, but as with most of the messes children make, it wasn’t worth crying over.

Spilt milkThe old adage that advises us not to cry over spilt milk has a non-Christian origin from the mid-1600’s when a group of English people strongly believed in fairies. They would leave small offerings of food and drink, especially milk (the fairies’ favorite). If a little was spilled in the process, the idea was to quickly mop it up and not stress over what no one could go back and do differently.

Though we don’t believe in fairies today (except the tooth fairy, of course), the thought behind the old spilt milk axiom has a parallel in Scripture. God advises us not to worry about the past, which can’t be rearranged, but to keep pressing forward. It’s one of Satan’s most insidious lies that the Lord won’t love someone who has some “spilt milk” in their background.

Thankfully, God debunks that throughout the Bible, reassuring us of his unconditional love again and again. Our part is to believe what he says, that he’ll continue to love us, no matter what.

Doused silverwareAnd concerning the grandson whose milk flowed through the silverware? I love him just as much today as I did the day before his stumble. But, in a far grander way, we can all be thankful that God will always love us, no matter what spills are in our past.

 

“Love…. binds everything together in perfect harmony.” (Colossians 3:14)