Thursday, December 19, 2024
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Grandpa
There was a certain man from Zorah, of the clan of the Danites, whose name was Manoah. His wife was barren and had borne no children. An angel of the LORD appeared to the woman and said to her, “Though you are barren and have had no children, yet you will conceive and bear a son.
When I was a wee little lad, I had a couple of grandpas. And now I are one.
One of the things I don’t expect from the grandkids is for them to remember what I remember from their baby and early childhood days, except as they begin to remember the stories. My memories are mostly based on stories Mom told me, along with photographs, Brownie pictures more precious than most of the rest of the fancier ones that merely corroborate memories rather than construct them.
And I imagine that the Bible characters we know had a similar experience, without the photographs, of course. They heard the stories about their own grandparents, took them to heart, and when they were older they shared them with their kids, who did the same a generation later. Stories like these become precious family possessions, even precious tribal or national possessions, even enclosed in leather covers sometimes, divided into 66 books sometimes, chapters and verses we want to remember all our lives.
These days I see things from my grandpa point of view. Things look pretty good from here. The memories I’m sure we have made along with Jack, Aly, Miles and Jasper will be placed in their mental treasure box as they keep growing, keep learning, and keep loving. Here’s another grandpa’s poem about his own grandpa:
Memories
What I remember about my grandpa
is that he would pick me up when I wanted,
even when I was too big for it.
What I remember is that he taught me
how to fish and would hand me the
pole with a fish already hooked, and
then take it back when I said it pulled too hard.
He bought me my first hammer
and bravely held the nails.
We would construct all sorts of projects
using saws, drills, wrenches and screwdrivers
hand in hand.
I remember how he smelled
even more than how he looked.
There was always a smile and laughter,
and bending the boundaries set by my parents.
But most of all I remember how my heart felt
when I was with him,
and most of all what I learned
is that I am loved. –Â Clarence Heller
Sweet stories, sweet poem, sweet tears.
Samson’s parents didn’t have grandchildren, John’s parents Zechariah and Elizabeth didn’t either, and Jesus left his parents without grandchildren as well. I am sad for all of them. They did not get to spend whole afternoons napping, telling stories, fixing supper. They did not have sleepovers now and then, exploring the edges of their common world.
The famous children of these parents offer stories, inspiration and salvation to the whole world. We learn much of what we know about love and justice, about time and eternity, about the earth and heaven from their children. But still, from my point of view as a grandpa, those parents (and of course many others) missed something more than sweet in their personal lives. Not priceless, I guess. But precious.
For you are my hope, O LORD;
my trust, O God, from my youth.
On you I depend from birth;
from my mother’s womb you are my strength.
(Judges 13 (Samson), Psalm 71, Luke 1)
(posted at  www.davesandel.net)
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