August 29, 2008
(Photo: My sweet (happy) little granddaughter, Jocelyn
What is it about a gurgling, drooling little cherub-cheeked baby that melts my heart? I might be having a bad day for one reason or another and then in romps my 2 1/2 year old Trenton, ray of sunshine, and all seems well with the world. Jocelyn, my newest little addition to the grandma files, is just at that cooing age. Once we establish eye contact, it's game over with Grandma. I melt and our conversation begins. She gurgles as I purr with love for her. The more I smile at her the bigger her grin. She cares not that I don't have hair. She is much more interested in what I have to say and how our eyes meet. I could sit and 'chat' with her for hours. There's something about babies that defies the human condition. I know that we are not born perfect but the way a baby looks beyond the outer shell and into the soul, seems pretty divine to me. She loves me because she senses my heart and my adoration for all things baby. Her smell is new. Her smiles are infectious and her ability to make Grandma forget the worries of the world is almost magical.
When I look into the eyes of a child, I wonder. I wonder if there was a conversation with Jesus before she was knit in the womb. I wonder if there are thoughts running through the tiny mind of a baby as she gazes past grandma's wrinkles and laugh lines. And then I wonder how God does it.
I know the Bible tells us that we don't have the same thoughts as God. So I understand that my mind is unable to grasp the full concept of creation. Nor am I really required to fully explain it. But when I look at my sweet little grandchildren, I begin to appreciate the miracle of life. The wonderful way babies are made. The incredible and consistent way growth occurs and the absolute delight we as adults, can glean from the little ones, when we take the time.
Jesus taught us a hard and fast lesson when he told his Disciples (n Matthew 19:14 to not be nitwits and of course to let the children come and sit on his lap and hang out with him (slight paraphrase.)
If we think of how that lesson applies in our lives, maybe we wouldn't see indiscriminate yelling or coersion by bullying as an option for raising children. Perhaps the moral of the story is that we need to take the time to coo and gurgle with the little ones. Or to hug without ceasing or to not cry over slopped milk or stains on the lace doilies.
Man, I should have had my grandchildren first. I seem to know a lot more now than I did then. Or...maybe I should have spent more time reading the instruction book (wherein I would have found Matthew 19:14)