No one told me when I signed up
for motherhood that it would eventually turn into grandmotherhood that looks
like this: wild and worrisome and wonderful all at once.
Take the past eleven days, for
instance. Within them, we welcomed five new grandbabies - a set of triplets and
a set of twins - born eight days apart.
On January 10, Rolin and Joy’s
two sons and one daughter arrived. The girl’s name is Piper Sage and she
weighed 4 lbs, 12 oz. at birth. Jude Malachi was 4 lbs. even, and Quinn Keegan
weighed 4 lbs, 11 oz.
On January 18, Kayleen and
Carlin’s identical twin girls entered the world, eleven weeks early. Eleanor
Jane weighed 2 lbs, 4 oz, and Eva Noel weighed 2 lbs, 13 oz.
These unique multiple events
kicked my grandmothering into high gear. Although I haven’t been able to do
all that much yet, I certainly have been able to feel much!
Something I have been able to do
is providing childcare for Seth, our first and only grandchild up until eleven
days ago. Seth stayed at our house for a little while over the time of his
siblings’ birth. I thought he really did quite well with the initial changes to
his routine.
One morning soon after the
triplets were born, I was sitting on the couch with my devotional book and
journal at hand (and probably with my phone in hand). Seth was capering around
the living room and frequently landing close to me. I soon realized that I had
forgotten what it’s like trying to have quiet time with a preschooler at my
elbow.
He kept up what seemed like a
steady stream of questions while intermittently I assured him that I did want
to play bat and ball with him in the back yard (yes, it’s been a mild January) as
soon as I was done having my devotions, but he should play quietly with the
dinkies for a little while longer. Finally, at his suggestion, I set the timer
for ten minutes.
But next thing I knew, he was at
my side, imploring, “When can we play outside, Grandma? Are you done with your ‘ermotions’
yet?”
I tried to keep my chuckle from
becoming too audible while I answered him in my mind. “No, Honey, I won’t be
done with my ermotions for a long, long time!”
I’m pretty sure he meant devotions,
since he had just heard me use that term, but it sounded like emotions
and I thought it was quite fitting for how intertwined my devotion and emotions
have become lately. In fact, if I were to follow King David’s lead and write a
psalm concerning the past week or two, it might sound something like this:
My heart is full of awe and
gratitude, O Lord, the Bringer of new life. Three grandbabies at once! I praise
you for their safe arrival, their healthy weights, their tiny soft-skinned
bodies so perfectly designed. And then twin grandbabies, tinier still, so soon
after! I praise you for their safe arrival, their brave struggle to adapt to
life outside the womb, their fragile and dependent little selves so beautiful
and precious.
You are the Planner and
Orchestrator of such miraculous happenings, and I marvel at your so-beyond-me
ways. Your goodness and generosity make me want to dance about the kitchen as I
fry eggs and wipe the counters. How can I truly thank and praise you according
to what you deserve? You cause my heart to overflow in adoration. Will you
accept my grateful tears as worship?
You also hold me when my heart is
bowed down with anxiety, O Lord; when the enemies of fear and disappointment rise
up against me. My daughter’s unborn twin babies were threatening to come before
they really should and now they have come at a better stage but they are needing
to deal with the many challenges of preemie life.
My worries about their health and
well-being cause my tears to overflow. I want to wander aimlessly about the
kitchen, slump over the counter and weep in my distress. How paltry a salty
offering can I bring and you still count it as worship?
But lo, O Lord, how manifold are
your provisions for your daughter at such a time as this. You show me your love
through people. You send friends who offer muffins, a listening ear, gentle
hugs, shrieks of wild delight, encouraging little messages on my phone, a drop-in visit, and a gift bag
solely for the big brother of the triplets.
You surprise me with the sight of
my husband down on his hands and knees – while tamping down his own gag reflex
– to scrub the living room carpet after the grandson was sick on it.
You gather me with your people at
church on a Sunday morning and shore up my spirit as we sing your truth together.
You design teams of skilled,
compassionate NICU nurses and doctors to care for our grandchildren in ways
that these wee babies’ own parents and we grandparents cannot.
Yes, your lovingkindness shown to
me through other people is noteworthy and praiseworthy.
You know everything about me, Lord. You know the early uprising of my
thoughts before the alarm signals morning has come. You know my downsitting on
the couch with my phone in hand to receive and send messages from many curious,
encouraging friends & relations.
You understand my angst afar off,
and are acquainted with all my unsurrendered ways when I consider taking off
(literally) on a trip to Thailand for a long-planned IGo Retreat while there
are almost as many Kenites in the hospital as those who aren’t hospitalized.
My desire to accompany/support my
husband in his role on the IGo board, as well as my longing to stay back home
to assist my children in the care of their children – you know it altogether. Your
thorough understanding of me and my situation comforts my soul.
When the onlookers of our
planning whisper behind their hands, What ARE Ken & Danette
thinking?, you will be my shield and buckler. God, only one zing of your arrows
will cause my pride and people-pleasing to stumble and fall. Trust and full
confidence in you will pick me up.
You encompass me round about with
your presence. You enfold me in your tender embrace. Such knowledge is too
wonderful for me; I am astounded.
I will praise you, Lord, with my
whole being. When my emotions are high and when they are low, I will give you
thanks. You only will I worship as long as I have breath (and tears).
Selah.
