Not Done With Her "Ermotions"

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.