Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come.
Psalm 71:18
The deliberate making of memories is one of a grandparent's most pressing responsibilities.
It's important to understand this, or the sleepovers won't make sense.
We are deep into Christmas week at Gramma's where our normal routine of a once-a-month sleepover is in 'enhanced mode' due to:
- the school holiday,
- it being Christmas,
- everyone's already sugared up,
- and this is a (reverb on) DOUBLE SLEEP-OVER!!!
The house is a happy mess of Lego and couch forts and various and other sundry modifications to help turn our space into Terabithia or Narnia or any other mythical universe worthy of the Ninja dragon-trainers that now inhabit this realm. The readily-available healthy snack tray is topped up several times throughout the day. The popcorn and ice cream and the slightly-above-parental-tolerance amounts of chocolate are doled out at appropriate times. Like when watching the movie, or we've just finished lunch, or when Gramma just randomly calls out "Who wants some sugar?"
And contrary to that last
Instead, for me, deliberate memory making is really about leaving a spiritual heritage.
To be clear, there is a high respect in play for the fact that the two families that have birthed these incredible human beings do not share exactly the same faith platform as each other. This works for me because it is a pretty basic teaching of Christianity that God gives us choice. So choices are respected. Nothing is assumed or forced or judged. And in this context, I do see the leaving of a spiritual legacy as one of the most important things I'm supposed to be doing with my life right now. For my grandchildren especially.
Earlier in this month two of the dragon trainers participated in a piece of the Christian tradition by reading Scriptures in church, and lighting a candle of Advent. This made my heart sing. In the course of a casual, spontaneous conversation with another one, there was evidence of a strong tendency to critical thinking about how the world works, and a leaning toward compassion when faced with the opportunity. This too made me revel in a moment of deep joy.
If there are deliberate memories to be made, let them be wrought from these important places.
Pause here to spin the globe.
The deliberate making of memories is one of a grandparent's most pressing responsibilities.
It's important to understand this, or the times in Thailand won't make sense.
It remains one of the biggest surprises of my life that I would be so thoroughly adopted into a family of such regal bearing as is Hot Springs.
Deep into the four-week visit last November, which, come to think of it is a (reverb on) 30 TIMES SLEEPOVER, I am offered the rich gift of being loved-on as if I was Gramma -- but have been instructed and reminded to drop the 'as if'. So, the Gramma thing, the memory-making, leagacy-leaving thing is in play here too.
The deliberate making of memories to leave a spiritual heritage. Yes. That's one of the most important things I'm supposed to be doing with my life right now. For these grandchildren as well.
So I teach when I'm there. English yes, but also life lessons from the Christian Bible, every evening. We learn songs with big dance-like actions that including bouncing and the waving of arms. We bring home baby bumble bees and go on lion hunts. We play games that reinforce an English concept or illustrate a spiritual understanding. We recite the alphabet and months of the year and days of the week and Bible verses to encourage and inspire.
And when necessary, because these kids are human and learning and sometimes make bad choices, I participate in a corrective conversation.
But more of it is in just the being-with. The spontaneous selfies around the fire before bedtime, the finding of a bandage for a scrape, the reading of a book, the telling of a funny story, the saying of "I love you" liberally. It's being there to live through the messes together, the frustrations of how business is carried out on a day to day basis, the heartbreak of a place where children's rights are virtually non-existent, the despair of poverty, and the bringing of hope through the good news that Jesus offers.
There's respect here, too, for very different ways of thinking, of living, or understanding how the world works. So much for me to learn, always.
And that's the point.
This holy handing off is a delicate marvelous thing.
Because.
There's a catch.
See actually, if I'm presumptuous enough to assume I have anything of a spiritual nature to leave to these children on both sides of the planet, it means, by default, I must be diligent about my spirit. It requires as a necessity that I take the time to reflect inward and work on the matters of my own spiritual formation, else what can I possibly leave behind but various degrees of mess?
Because of big changes, I would have to admit that it's been a messy year inside my soul. Perhaps that's why I'm thinking about all of this right now, in the middle of the double sleepover. These are the last few days of a year that has provided no end of opportunities to work on patience and putting aside of self and letting go of treasured things and wrestling my ego to the ground again. It's been grueling work and it seems like it's going to continue as something of a theme song into the new year as well. I'm so not done this "pressing responsibility". Not as happy a mess as the house is right now. But equally part of the deliberate making of memories, the holy handing off of leaving a legacy.
David's prayer so long ago seems written from a grandparent's heart somehow.
Stay close, Lord, and keep doing your work in me.
Don't give up on me,
until I can pass something on to the extraordinary children
You've so lavished on my life.
Let me be a way of seeing You at work.
Your mighty acts.
Your slow and quiet transformation of this still unfinished work.
Let me leave this legacy,
one inward surrender at a time.
So they can know what a good and patient and gentle God You are.