But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me,
and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God.
Luke 18:16 (RSV)
What is in my hand?...A reminder of my human nature
I mentioned in my last post of 2024 I faced health challenges throughout the year. A neurologist diagnosed me with a damaged nerve condition called Peripheral Neuropathy in February 2024. While this condition continues, I do not allow it to hold me back.
I am prone as a man to frailties of human nature, like physical vulnerabilities. I am getting older and not as spry as when I enjoyed my twenties or thirties. This, however, is no reason to quit or crawl into a corner and let the world go by… You see, I have a promise to keep.
What is in my hand?...The tears of grandparents who need a voice
Through the years since I began to blog here, life has changed. Each year in my posts around December or January, I dedicate a message in memory of my five grandbabies in heaven. These are babies who never made it to birth. While some people might think it odd, I made a promise to these babies. I promised them I would not forget them.
Since I made this promise, I have encountered people who grieve over the deaths of their grandchildren. I have collected stories and experiences from grandparents open enough to share with me. A common expression they have is, “we don’t have a voice.”
I hold their tears in my hand because I resonate with them. Grandparents often spend much of their grief energy caring for their families who also grieve. Their grief matters as well. After hearing and writing their stories, I decided to capture their words and tears in a book. The book has taken me three years to write so far. Life can get in the way, but it does not stop me. I pray the book will be a voice for grandparents who grieve.
I have a couple of titles for the book, but no decision what the title will be. Here are the proposed titles: “Plant Them A Garden: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith and Poetry,” and “Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry.”
The words I have in my hand are from the beats of my heart and words of faith.
I end this post with a poem to be included in my book.
Give Rest to the Children
By Alan Anderson, July 15, 2023
(I adapted this poem from an Orthodox Christian funeral liturgy for a child.)
The sword of death has come,
my world has changed.
Sorrow steals every moment.
The sun has become cold,
evening is frozen darkness.
The death of my grandchildren…pierces my existence.
How shall I live, O God,
must I continue to breathe?
My tears drown me,
my sobs suffocate me,
life is still.
Grant Your light to these children, O Blessed One,
for they have not sinned or spoiled creation.
Welcome them, give them rest,
where there is no sickness or sorrow or sighing.
They are but children,
have mercy on them, O God.
I will give my grief to God,
The Lord who loves all people,
He will not allow me to be ruined.
With Him, I know my grandchildren live.
God opened the gates of heaven to them.
I can bear my stumbled steps,
begin to walk one foot before another.
I can face the day,
sleep in the night,
with peace.
I remember the children with great love and playful memories,
for God has not forsaken me,
neither are the children lost.
For their memory is eternal,
in the mind of God.
Give rest to the children, O Lord.
