Fountain of Youth

Posted on January 12, 2011 by Margaret

By now I’m used to goodbyes. When children grow into adults and move away, parents are waving them off continually. Today was a waving day as Hans, Katy, Nicholas, Evelyn and Thomas boarded an American Airlines jet for England. They were anxious to get home, and the rest of us are ready to get back to work and study.

With three car seats, a double stroller, five massive bags, unnumbered carry-ons and eight people, we needed two vehicles to get to the airport. Part of that was three drivers, two to circle while the third assisted Hans and Katy through check-in. The babies slept through the two hour ride, waking as if cued by an alarm as we pulled up to the airport curb.

Watching them roll/push/haul toward the big double doors, two babies in the stroller and one strapped to Hans’ back, I marveled at their efficiency in getting to this point without a glitch. Katy was so well organized this morning we had time for a cup of tea as we waited for the appointed moment to step out the door.

I’m thankful to God for these children and grandchildren, each one custom-designed by the Creator to accomplish the divine purposes for which they were born. I’m the privileged bystander, looking on and lending a hand along the way. Spending time with them is of great delight in the autumn of my life.

But there’s one chronic stress in our situation. All of my grandchildren live far from me. That means it’s double-or-nothing when we’re together. Either they have to move in with me or I with them, which can put a strain on young and old alike.

One friend told me that after she stayed in her daughter’s home with her two grands, back home she needed a week’s recuperation for each week spent with them. Last time she visited for three weeks so it was another three before she felt ready to put anything on her at-home calendar. I chuckled when she said that, but I didn’t have grandchildren then.

Now I do, and I understand.

As we stepped back in the door at home tonight, the first thing I did was pause at the baby toy bin sitting ready for a lift back to the basement. With a twang of sadness I wondered when my grandbabies would next handle those toys. Maybe so much time will pass before they return, they’ll have grown beyond them and the answer is “never”.

The second thing I did was sit down to think about that, and before I knew it, my head was hanging, and I was asleep.

Let’s see. The kids were here for five weeks. That means I’ll be back to normal by the end of February…. except that I’ll be staying with my Florida grandchildren to celebrate Micah’s first birthday well before then.

Maybe instead of counting weeks, I should just acquiesce to Mom’s point of view: “Spend as much time as you can with children; it’ll add decades to your life.”

“The love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear him. His salvation extends to the children’s children.” (Psalm 103:17)

Hanging On

Posted on January 12, 2011 by Margaret

Nate wanted to go to Harvard University. He made his decision while still in junior high and worked diligently throughout high school, always reaching for his dream.

As a senior he applied early to Harvard, wanting to be in the first wave of acceptance letters, but had failed to consider one important factor. While he was the managing editor of the school newspaper, he’d written a series of harsh articles about two of the school’s teachers. In his opinion, they were more interested in coaching sports than teaching history, and he expounded on this in the newspaper.

Of course the teachers were insulted and let Nate know it. What he’d forgotten was his need for university recommendations from these same teachers, since he would be a history major. One of them had bluntly told Nate, “I’ll see to it you never get into Harvard.”

That might have been a frustrated high school student’s inflated opinion of the conversation, but the bottom line was a rejection letter from Harvard. Nate’s hopes were dashed, and receiving acceptances from several other excellent universities didn’t ease his pain.

Dotted throughout our 40 years together were a handful of references to the Harvard rejection story and especially the teacher who threatened him. It was difficult for Nate to let go, because of the hateful way this person had acted, although his overblown response to Nate’s articles seemed to actually vindicate what had been written about him.

None of us completely get our way as we go through life. After a crushing disappointment, it’s what we do next that determines whether or not we’ll be able to distance ourselves from the event. We can either mull it over again and again, increasing our resentment, or we can tell God, “You deal with it, because I can’t.”

I don’t think Nate ever experienced complete freedom from the malice of that history teacher. The teacher probably thought very little about Nate after he graduated, but Nate often thought about him. Turning it over to God would have been beneficial.

Last Sunday our pastor quoted Martin Luther who said, “There are only two days on my calendar. Today and that day,” meaning the day we meet our Maker. The hurtful events of yesterday shouldn’t be allowed to bind us today. It’s our choice, though. We can drag all the unfair stuff along with us, risking ruining today, or we can say no to that, with God’s help.

One day, after Nate and I had been married nearly a year, he told me the Harvard rejection story. He’d graduated with a strong GPA from Northwestern University and was about to graduate honorably from the University of Illinois Law School, so the Harvard rejection didn’t matter much to me. But as he talked, I could sense he was still hurting.

But we were newlyweds, and our “today” was lots of fun, so I tried to encourage him back into it. “If you’d gone to Harvard, we wouldn’t have met!”

I watched his pain melt, and he said, “Oh, I would have come back to the Midwest to get you.”

We only have today (which we know), and that day (which we don’t know).

“…of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone.” (Matthew 24:36)

Anointed with Oil

Posted on January 10, 2011 by Margaret

Having little children in a house puts everyone on red-alert every minute. And when they can be heard playing just out of sight but then grow quiet, adults kick into emergency mode.

Tonight as our eight month old twins were being bathed, two year old Nicholas was happily chattering amongst the toys a short distance from three adults. It hadn’t dawned on us he’d grown quiet until I heard Katy’s voice shouting. “Nicholas! No no no! You can’t have that!”

She flew toward the kitchen to retrieve whatever it was, and I rounded the cabinets in my snow boots, sliding across the floor as if it were a skating pond. As we arrived on the scene, we found Nicholas holding a spray can of cooking oil, pressing the button and christening the entire kitchen. Oil dripped down his forearms and into his sleeves. He’d sprayed out most of a full can.

Katy grabbed it, and Nicholas began rubbing his cheeks with his greasy hands saying, “Cream!” But none of us had told him the can was off limits, so he hadn’t done anything wrong.

She grabbed Nicholas and headed for the bathtub while I dealt with the floor. Jack came around the corner and went sailing on the slippery surface, not once but twice, wondering why his legs no longer worked.

In the end, damages were insignificant, but this is a fitting example of why young mommies and daddies are often worn weary by their job. Parenting is ongoing work that’s open-ended, long-term. The finishing line can’t be seen during the most difficult years, and even at night a break is never guaranteed.

God probably organized parenting in this way to give us a glimpse of our child-to-parent relationship with him. He’s “on our case” continually, just as we are on our children, and has no objections to the task being ongoing, open-ended and long-term. As a matter of fact, he views that as beneficial, since most of us need all the time we can get.

Back in the 1970’s there was a movement in Christian circles: “Please be patient. God isn’t finished with me yet.” I had a button that said, PBP.GIFWMY, and a book came out with that same title. Although the fad passed, the concept is still true. God will never give up on us. When we fail, he doesn’t get frustrated but continues to encourage and nudge us forward.

These divine parenting principles work well in earthly parenting, too. Katy and Hans will never give up on teaching Nicholas, because they know his personal growth is a long-term project. Maturity doesn’t come in a day, and because they love him passionately, they’ll continue to clean up his messes and tell him “no” or “yes” thousands of times over the years.

But Nicholas is secure in their love, and when he had to surrender the spray oil tonight, he did it knowing Katy’s disapproval didn’t mean she loved him any less.

A child senses he is a work in progress, and as God parents us, we should sense it, too.

“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:4)