By Lynna Clark
Currently we have three local grandchildren, all seven years old. I had the bright idea to host a sleep-over a few weeks back so their parents could have date nights. The kids get along great so I wasn’t worried at all about them. But my old bones do not function like they used to. Right now I’m going through a season of pain. I knew it would be hard to keep up.
At bedtime we put the two boy cousins in the guest room and our granddaughter was given the privilege of sleeping with her grandmother. David was blessed with the recliner. I think he was happy to make the “sacrifice.” After much giggling, adjusting of covers, lanterns and flashlights I passed out on my side of the bed. The next morning everyone was up and at ‘em long before me. David had the kids at the breakfast table as I toddled that way. When I came around the corner I heard sweet Marie say, as if sharing a secret, “Did y’all know Grammy snores?”
“HEY!” I startled her. “You’re not supposed to rat out your Grammy!”
The three of them laughed and began saying how next time they were going to switch places. It seemed nobody wanted to sleep with Grammy. Jesse looked at me with pity, moved from his place and put his arm around me.
“I’ll sleep with you Grammy,” he said in a sympathetic tone. Marie held her ground. But Able noticed and came to me as well. Hoping my feelings weren’t hurt, he too promised. “I’ll sleep with you Grammy.”
Jesse piped up. “You first!”
I thought David might snort Aldi-O’s through his nose.
These kids. They bring me so much joy. Seven short years ago we wondered if God would ever hear our prayers for little ones. Able was due to arrive the following May, but his brother Aven had died before birth. We had reason to be afraid when Able was born ten weeks early.
Our youngest daughter and her husband had been on the adoption waiting list so long that they had to go through another home study. That fall God saw fit to bless their home with two babies at once; a boy and a girl, three weeks apart.
Seven years ago at Christmas our home was quiet… well, except for the snoring. That’s been a lifelong… situation. There was no pitter-patter of little feet. There were no hand-crafted fingerprint gifts made for the mamas. I had no reason to count batteries or shop for Legos and Lite-Brites. But now!
Oh be still my heart! Everyone’s fighting over who gets to sleep with Grammy!
Maybe this season for you is not so jolly and bright. Perhaps this is not the most wonderful time of the year in your world. May I offer a word of hope?
Speak to the Lord the longing of your soul. Cast all your care on Him, for He cares for you. Then watch as He brings you through this season and into the next. He alone is faithful and true.
Just remember that His timing is always wiser than ours. So many things had to work out before we got our little ones. And this mystery illness still plagues me though we’ve begged Him for years to take it away. The pain grows greater each passing day. Yet I know He hears the longing of my heart and will continue to bless us “in due season, if we faint not.”
“He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him freely give us all things?”
May the Lord bless you and keep you in His wonderful care, no matter the season you’re in.
Resources:
Galatians 6:9; Romans 8:32; 1 Peter 5:7
