Extreme Grandparenting

(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)

Lessons From a Weapon of Grass Destruction - Lynda S.

I'm painting. No need for Van Gogh, Picasso, or The Group of Seven to worry though; I'm painting my apartment. After the paint comes the decoration. I'm planning "The Farm" as a theme for one of my guest rooms, and that sent me searching for my dad's saw and scythe. To my distress both were badly rusted—the victims of the high humidity here in Venezuela. I needed some expert help.

My colleagues, Bevin and Janie Wray, are entertaining Janie's sister and her family over these two weeks. Calvin and Rita farm just outside Calgary and I was pretty certain that a farmer would know about rusty implements and how to fix them. Sure enough, Carl had an answer to my dilemma.

I soaked two towels in vinegar, wrapped one around the saw and the other around the scythe. Then I wrapped both tools in plastic wrap to keep the towels from drying out. By the time I got back to them later on that evening, it was obvious that something was working—I could see through the plastic wrap that the towels were brown! The smell, as I unwrapped the tools, was not pleasant, but the rust was gone just as Cal had told me that it would be.

It was a good thing that I chose old cleaning rags to do the job. Even though the towels went immediately into the wash, they will bear the marks of rust for the rest of their days.

There had to be a spiritual lesson in this little DIY project. I thought about my life, rusting with sin. Then Jesus came, like that vinegar-soaked towel, and wrapped me in His love and forgiveness. My sins, like those rust stains, He bore in His own body, removing them forever from mine.

However, unlike my old towels, the rust stains of sin were not just transferred, they were eradicated completely, washed clean in the blood of the Lamb of God, They simply ceased to exist.

Somehow, I suspect that every time I go into that particular guest room where dad's tools will be hung, I will never be able to look at his saw and scythe in the same way again. What do you think?

In His Time - Jan Keats

Have you been waiting a long time for an answer to prayer or for that something special to happen in your life? Do you feel the eagerness or anxiety? Some people cross off the days on a calendar in anticipation of an answer. It could be a prayer that you’ve been praying for a long period of time, or it could be an immediate need that requires steadfast prayer, or it could be an anticipation of a call to come through for that job offer.

Do you remember when God do come through after praying and waiting? How do you feel then? Relief? Joy? Satisfaction? Did you remember to praise God for His guidance? Maybe your special prayer request hasn’t even been answered yet and it seems that it’s nowhere in sight. Yes, it may seem that way but what does God’s Word tell us about that? Do you ever wonder and say, “Where is God when I need Him?”

God is in our midst to hear our prayers and grant forgiveness. God is in our hearts to seal the promises that He has made until the day of redemption. The Bible says that the Spirit is God’s guarantee that He will give us everything He promised and that He has purchased us to be his own people.

God is in our midst to protect, guide and strengthen us. In the Old Testament there’s a verse that says: “For the Lord is the one who goes with you. He will not fail or forsake you.” Deut.31:6
He walks with us all the time and He answers our prayers all the time but…it is always in His time! The prophet Elijah prayed earnestly that it would not rain and for 3 ½ years it didn’t, then he prayed that it would and God gave the rain.

Sometimes our prayers need immediate attention. Queen Esther was faced with the potential death of her people; her entire race that lived in the region. So she urged her people to pray for 3 days just to muster up the courage to talk to her King to plead with him to stop the death of her people. Job was another person who suffered and needed God in a desperate situation, but he continued to trust and believe that God would come through despite all the trials that he went through.

In James chapter 5 we read about Job’s patience. “For examples of patience in suffering, dear brothers and sisters, look at the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. We give great honor to those who endure under suffering. Job is an example of a man who endured patiently. From his experience we see how the Lord’s plan finally ended in good, for He is full of tenderness and mercy.” (James 5:10,11)

Are you able then, to rest in the Lord? To rest on His promises? You can trust the God of glory to shelter and comfort you when the going is tough. Just watch God shine His grace upon you! Just watch God at work as you pass on to others the same hope and grace He sustained you with!

Copyright Jan Keats

I’m a collector

It’s not Avon bottles, stamps or the usual collector’s items, but if something interests me, I clip it, buy it, stack and file it until my space is stuffed. But lately—and I don’t know whether it’s my age, or from watching the Olympics—I’m realizing that an excess of anything unnecessary or unused slows me down.

Age says there is not enough time to use it all. I will not live long enough to write a story about every idea in my bulging filing cabinets, nor will I have time to read all the books on my shelves, never mind those on my ‘must read’ list. And despite all appearances, there is not enough room in my stomach to make every recipe that I’ve ever clipped.

Likely advancing years are making me anxious, not about dying but about using my time wisely. Everyone has a few regrets, but I don’t want frittering away my hours to be one of them.

I’m not sure watching the Olympics belongs in that frittering category, but when I’m making meals and doing dishes, I’ve noticed how all the athletes, whether swimmers, runners, rowers, or even weight lifters, enter their competition venues lean and without encumbrances. They are prepared to do their best for the homeland they represent. They seem entirely focused on the task at hand, not distracted by the other competitions across the room, nor the guy in the next line, and certainly not by carrying a bunch of baubles and other stuff.

Some of them may have taken Hebrews 12:1 to heart. It says, “Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. . . .”

I know that weights and sins ruin my running ability and all sorts of other abilities. When I read of the “sins which so easily ensnare,” my collections pop to mind. Among them are worry, resentment and anger. All three trap my energy and release it in ways counterproductive to running races. These obviously have to go.

However, “lay aside every weight” seems distinct from “sin that ensnares.” These weights could be collections of material goods, like my stuffed filing cabinet or my stash of quilting fabric, and I am convinced that the shelves at Bibles for Missions or the Goodwill Store look much better overflowing than mine do, but I’m also convicted by the athletes in another way. When the bell rings, they hop right to it without any weights like procrastination, fiddling and tweaking. I am seldom as ready to get started on anything, even the easy stuff.

But I can think of many ways to avoid hard work too. Reading the business section in the newspaper (after the comics, lifestyles, front pages, and city news) will do it. So will saving email that should be deleted, which is bad enough, but I can also spend hours sorting it. Or what about cleaning the clean, or color-coding my task list? Nothing ever gets checked off when I’m in one of my “I don’t feel like it” modes.

While I’ve been confessing some of my sin collections, like worrying when I should pray, or resenting and ranting when I should forgive, I also realize that some of my fiddling is sin too. I should be on my knees with that collection of tough stuff instead of rejecting God’s help by doing what I think I can handle all by myself.

Until I die, I suspect that from time to time God will remind me to take a look at my collections. He doesn’t mind all of them. I can keep the memorabilia. He just wants me to know what is worthy and what has become a weighty and hindering load, and then get rid of it.

© Elsie Montgomery