And now they leave…

Posted on by

Recently it’s been lively at our normally quiet cottage. That’s because Linnea, Adam, Micah and SKYLAR have been here. Neighbors have told me, “We love hearing your granddaughter’s adorable voice.” That tells me the volume has been high enough to travel through our screens and into theirs. Actually, as I’ve been waking up each morning, Skylar’s enthusiastic life-commentary has moved out the open downstairs windows and into my bedroom windows above, making me smile before my head has left the pillow. Her parents would agree with my assessment that she is a cheerful, LOUD child!

But Skylar and co. get on an airplane tomorrow morning, and I’ll come home to a very quiet house with no Skylar in it. I could cry already.

Skylar’s ongoing dialogs (and monologs) captivate me: “Oh. Jack sneezed. God bless you, Jack. Daddy is so cute and cuddly. How are you, girlfriend? I like spaghetti sauce. There’s a boo-boo on my knee. We go to the beach with sand and waves and rocks and bubbles. Mommy loves me.”

This little chatterbox is not yet two years old but never runs out of words. Her lilting voice and sparkling conversation have kept us laughing and happy, and I can’t imagine how much I’ll miss her.

Today Louisa, Birgitta and I had the fun of caring for big-girl Skylar and her baby brother most of the day while her parents had a well-deserved day off. Since Skylar never walks but always runs, the first thing she did was take a header onto the hardwood floor, absorbing the blow with her nose. Despite the swelling and bluish color, she plowed through her day with merriment and unbounded enthusiasm. As we walked around the neighborhood together, she identified the houses where Jack’s doggie friends live, remembering what each looks like. When he threw himself down on a lawn for a roll, Skylar shouted, “Happy dance! Happy dance!” and followed his lead.

She entertained the toddlers in Sunday school, expounded on the joys of a McDonald’s Happy Meal, read me a book at nap time, swam at the beach, and struggled up the dunes “by myself” singing “Climb, climb up Sunshine Mountain.” When I’ve heard her say, “I want Midgeeeee!” it’s been better music than any ipod favorite. I wish she wasn’t going!

I know every grandparent feels this way about their grandchildren, which simply proves what a good idea God had in setting families up this way. Just when we parents are beginning to feel our age, here come children-relatives who move us into a second childhood and bring good old fashioned fun along with them.

Without Skylar here, I wouldn’t have made sand cakes and topped them with black chocolate chip stones, or filled jars with colored water. I wouldn’t have sung my favorite childhood choruses, or danced in circles while blowing bubbles through a wand. Picking up dog poop wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun without my inquisitive audience, and I wouldn’t have acted out the story of The Three Pigs. Skylar was the inspiration for all of it and much more.

As they leave, I’ll try to remember what Nate often said: “Receive what you’re given.” I was given 18 days with Skylar and her family, and that gift will be my warm fuzzy for a long time.

“Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away!” (Jeremiah 29:6)

The Bean

Posted on by

Talk about reinventing yourself. Our “Bean” has morphed into six good lookin’ vehicles in six years. First purchased for Hans to get to his college classes from off campus housing, The Bean was practical, short term transportation. Because it cost only $400 and is still purring along today, we think of it as a member of the family. Although it was once posted on Craig’s List and received a good deal of interest, for sentimental reasons a sale couldn’t be made, and the ad was pulled.

When this little car was first purchased, it was a “nasty cream color” so was used as a base for an object-de-art (think graffiti). Not too long afterward, it was painted green, with a brush, out of a can. Because of its new grassy coat, Hans christened it “The Green Bean,” and it’s been lovingly dubbed “The Bean” ever since.

Although an unknowing onlooker might call it “a wreck”, the rest of us describe it as “transportation with character.” The upholstery is stained, the back seat is shredded, the window cranks are missing, the antenna is long gone, the windshield is cracked and rust has ravaged its body, but on the positive side, there’s no need for keeping track of a key; it starts with a screwdriver.

The green of The Bean was followed by a brush-coat of orange so it could attend a costume party as the Dukes of Hazard car, where it won a prize. After that it continued in its coat of many colors with a fresh look every year: blue, red and finally camouflage, perfect for blending in.

The Bean has a built-in hitch strong enough to haul a landscaping trailer twice its size and was used by the boys in their mowing business, Scandinavian Lawn. Last week, in honor of SL and also the family heritage, Klaus refreshed its paint by spraying on a Swedish flag, and today while inspecting the colors, I noticed something special: a copy of the devotional “Our Daily Bread” lying next to the gear shift. Was it an old copy? When I checked, it was propped open to today’s date.

The Bean was originally a 1988 Chevy Nova, but the boys boast of its engine being made to last, by Toyota. With nearly 200,000 miles to its credit, this vehicle has criss-crossed the USA again and again, east to west, north to south, without a pit stop for repairs. The boys say its miles-per-gallon stat is getting better with age, which puts it in the category of a fine wine. Since it draws quite a few looks of wonder from others on the road, we’re fairly sure the rest of the driving world acknowledges its magic.

Police in many states have lavished regular attention on The Bean, and our boys are familiar with the routine. It starts with the squad car bubble gum lights flashing in the rear view mirror, followed by a cynical officer at the window. The boys ask, “Why’d you pull us over?”

The law responds, “I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll find something.”

And yet The Bean slides through examination after examination without being ticketed. Maybe it’s the “Harvard” sticker on the back window or simply a phenomenon of police-pity.

The other day I asked Hans, “What do you like best about The Bean?”

He gave a priceless answer: “It’s a faithful servant.”

And that’s a pretty lofty description for a humble little ride.

“Sitting down, Jesus called the twelve [disciples] and said, “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.” (Mark 9:35)

 

Trusting 100%

Posted on by

It was God’s delightful idea to make miniature people and send them to bigger people to raise, a phenomenal plan. And he intends for us big people to learn a great deal from the little ones.

To be a child is to be something spectacular, a person who exhibits innocence, submission, trustfulness. These characteristics are especially true in one-year-olds. I’m privileged to have two of them among my grandchildren, Nicholas, from England, and Skylar, from Florida. And it’s been my joy for the last couple of weeks to have Skylar staying at my address (with her family).

I’ve never known a more enthusiastic person than this one-year-old. She’s up for anything, which includes trying strange foods, meeting new people, petting any animal or swimming in Lake Michigan. When others are hesitant, Skylar is eager.

After she leaves on Monday, I’ll miss her toddler voice and the many clever things she says. Today as I helped her out of her car seat, she cooed at me and said, “Hi, precious Midgee.” How can you beat that?

There are unnumbered good things about Skylar that she shares with all one-year-olds, and having 100% trust in those around her is one of the best. This is a significant charge for the rest of us, to make sure we’re 100% trustworthy in our relationships with them.

The other day Klaus was enjoying Skylar at the beach, asking her if she wanted “to fly.” Of course she was up for it, and he began throwing her as high as his arms could fling her. She squealed with laughter, never doubting for an instant that he’d catch her securely every time. Klaus ran out of energy long before Skylar ran out of wanting to be tossed.

The picture we snapped that day exemplifies perfect trust. Skylar’s face is devoid of worry, and she’s able to take pleasure in an event that actually has the potential to turn out badly for her. She knows how it feels to get splashed in the face or get water up her nose but isn’t thinking of those “what ifs.” Instead she’s trusting all things will work together for good. Haven’t we heard that someplace before?

I am one of God’s children. Hopefully you are, too. The Christian’s relationship to him is based on trusting that he knows what’s best for us, without injecting doubt by unnecessary “what ifs.” We trust the Gospel to be true (see John 3:16) and strive to base our lives on trusting God the Father and Jesus the Son, one-on-one. But there’s the rub: we strive.

We think, “What if he looks away and doesn’t catch me? What if I plunge under water? What if he doesn’t rescue me in time? What if he catches me but the landing hurts? What if I’m too heavy for him to hold me tight?”

The “what if” going through my mind at the moment is, “What if we could all trust God like one-year-olds trust us?”

We’d probably all know how to fly.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)