This post is part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word prompt and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “now.”
I have a 26-month-old grandson who was an early talker, so by now, he’s really got a grasp on the English language. When he was coming to our house 5 days a week (which he’s not now thanks to the stay-at-home orders and the job losses of both his parents) he would often finish doing something, or just tire of the activity he was engaged in, and he would come to me and say, “What do now?”
It was so cute. He got that from us because we would often say it to him when he looked like he was moving on from whatever he was doing.
It occurs to me that we’re often like that with God. We always want to be doing something. But in this time of pause in the world, it seems like we shouldn’t be asking that question. Maybe the right question to ask is not “what should I be doing?” but rather “Who am I becoming”?
There will be no vacation for us this year. No foreign excursion. No Alaskan cruise. No bungalow on the beach. No mountain cabin by a crystalline lake.
Not that those things were very affordable in the past, but this year is different.
This year, David and I have committed to keeping our almost 6-month-old grandson for my son and his girlfriend when they are at work.
When we first learned of our grandbaby’s existence almost a year ago, the assumption was that they wouldn’t be able to keep him because they were very young, unmarried and would not be able to pull if off financially. They had thought it through, talked about it, and decided that adoption was the way to go.
And that’s what they told us when they finally got up the nerve to tell us about the baby.
But no, grace dove in and we were under it’s unrelenting power. If they wanted to keep this baby boy, we would do everything we could to help them, short of paying their bills. We would provide childcare—Nana Daycare we call it—and call upon our vast network of friends to help provide the necessities for setting up a home with a baby.
So this year we will take no vacation, but we will rest in knowing that God’s grace gave us this sweet gift instead.
Tomorrow, my mom would have turned 78. Hard to believe. Wish she could be around to celebrate. But we lost her to pancreatic cancer four and a half years ago.The last time I saw her was a couple of months before she died. We had planned a family trip out to Cali so the kids could see her, but she didn’t know whether she’d make it that long.
Neither did we. But we hoped.
Here she is with my three kids. She came to spend that first Thanksgiving after my dad died with us. That was the last time my kids would see her. She died the next August. Boy, did she love her grandchildren. It was hard to be far away. She sent gifts and came to see us whenever she could, but it’s not the same as being there.
Though my mom and I were never good at heart-to-heart talks, I miss her still. Mostly, I miss what my children will miss by not having her around.
A podcast where I invite guests from all walks of life to discuss their favorite movies, and we use that film as a starting point to talk about deeper issues such as faith, politics, and social issues.