This morning my thoughts were brought back to years ago when our home was a busy hub. On one of those days Jerry and I were sitting at the dining room table, observing an eventful scene at the kitchen counter between my mother and our youngest granddaughter, Emma. as they were eating ice cream.
Mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease and was living with us, was crying, and saying that she needed to go home. Emma had her hand on Mother’s knee and was talking to her. This three-year-old child was consoling a ninety-one-year old woman, who was listening and responding to her encouragement. I wrote about the incident as I related a young child’s understanding of what it means to want to go home.
Jerry and I could not remember the words, but only that it was an extraordinary, moving experience.
Olivia was in the back yard chasing butterflies. I had just brought her home from kindergarten. She ministers in her own way.
My second childhood seems to be between a three-year-old and a five-year-old. Writing has become the main outlet for my witness to the grace and glory of my Lord. There are times when I get down to the nitty-gritty, really serious stuff that the Lord gives me, but it is difficult to keep at it until it is finished. He has done much for me, in me, with me, around and through me over the years. Much has been finished, but there is still much that lacks completion.
At this age my life is somewhat correspondent to my writing. Childlikeness is good, but always needs a goal, guidance and discipline, which comes from the heart and hand of our Father. The joy of life in Christ seems at times as if I am enjoying the things I used to do with the grandchildren ~ chasing butterflies, and blowing bubbles. But the Lord is not through with me yet. This is the second time around ~ and now I need to get back to the ice cream.
Gracious Father, thank you for your patience, your mercy and your grace with your children. You know how weak we are, and how much we need you. Thank you for the days and the years of guiding, of teaching, of training. Thank you that no one can snatch us out of your hand. Thank you for a love that is the homing device by which your Holy Spirit draws us home to you. In Jesus’ name I thank and praise you. Amen.