Some wag once said that grandchildren are the reward we get for not killing our own kids when they were growing up. For some, I suppose that's true; Linda and I thoroughly enjoyed raising ours, even through those times when we wondered who spawned these creatures. And now we experience the joy of front row seats as our children are raising theirs. Last Sunday, Matt, Mattie, and Nathan came over for breakfast before church. We switch off every other week between their home and ours; something Linda's been doing since Jeanine started singing with the worship team some years back. As they sat at the table, little Nathan began fiddling with whatever was in front of him--utensils, glass, salt and pepper shakers, and whatever else he could get his hands on. All this time, I'm watching Matt's patience wearing thin till he growls between his teeth, "Stop playing with that stuff!" whereupon I burst into peals of laughter, which in Matt's opinion didn't help the situation any. Neither did my reminding him of how he always had to touch whatever was before him.
When the kids were young, we did Advent devotions with them at dinnertime. We didn't do so well other times of the year, but during Advent we read from a little booklet, sang a Christmas Carol, and offered a short prayer. We also lit the Advent Candles, which Matt found irresistible. He was constantly sticking his fingers into the hot wax, then rubbing the wax into little balls which he deposited back in the candle. No matter how many times we told him to stop, the next night it would be the same ritual, all over again. So last Sunday morning, we laughed while Matt muttered under his breath.
Today was a different sort of grandchildren blessing as I was able to take Izzi and Eliza to Rochester to see Newsies. They are the two acrobats of the bunch, and I figured they would appreciate the acrobatic dancing of the show. We had a wonderful time, ending with dinner and a short visit with my mother. After more than sixty years, I can still remember the overnight stays with my grandparents, and the special things we occasionally did together. The Bible frequently speaks of the joy of extended family. I pity those who have never experienced it, and am grateful for the opportunity we have of building into our grandchildren. Someone once said that love is spelled T-I-M-E, and I believe it. Surprisingly, Izzi and Eliza didn't chatter all the way up and back. Maybe they need Meema as the catalyst for conversation; Lord knows I'm not very good at it. But we had fun, and even if they don't remember it for the rest of their lives, I will; and that's enough for me.
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