It's amazing what having children can do
to you. You find reserves of strength
you never knew you had when their temperatures rise and their chubby little
cheeks turn rosy with fever. You find
you can do without sleep or food far longer than you ever expected. Even more astounding, you find the Mama Bear
that has been lurking unexposed your whole life until the very second someone
looks at your child cross-eyed, much less actually threatens them.
Grandchildren add a totally new dimension to all of this. At least when your children are young, you
are still in relatively good shape physically.
But for your precious grandchildren, arthritic knees, stiff backs, and
eye-blurring cataracts will not stop you from your appointed rounds!
Silas is in high school now, playing his
first year on the varsity basketball team.
Living with a house full of men all these years, I have learned enough
to know that his defense is stellar, with 2 or 3 steals and 4 or 5 rebounds a
game. He is also an assist
"machine," some of which are so crisp and clean they take your breath
away. Besides all that, he makes a few
points every game, yet does all of this in usually about 2 quarters since he is
not yet a starter—but would be if Grandma had a vote.
As supportive grandparents, we bought
season tickets to the home games and rarely miss one. Unlike the flag football team—where he is
known for his touchdown receptions and interceptions—basketball games are
played in a gym. The home gym is 59
years old and I would bet the bleachers are the same age. The orangy brown wood is scuffed from years
of sneakers, Keds to Air Jordans to Ohtani's New Balance, I imagine. At the bottom in the middle is something they
call a step, which leads you to the top.
Evidently, 59 years ago, people were much taller, or at least had longer
legs. This "step" is higher
than my knees, my achy arthritic knees.
So now they tell me to climb on up.
Pardon? I can barely lift my foot
that high, much less actually climb up.
No one is sitting there, I think, so why can't I just sit down myself? Because, in pretty black stencil are the
letters "NOT A SEAT."
The first time I tried to step up nothing
happened. So I rocked back a step and
gave it another try. Still no go. At this point Keith lifted on my elbow. I am here to tell you the elbow is NOT the
problem. A lady sitting to the side on
the second row reached out and asked, "Can I help you ma'am?" I had no idea who she was, probably a fan
from the other team, but she was obviously a well-bred Southerner—the ma'am
always gives us away. Meanwhile, the
line behind me is growing longer.
Finally, someone—I have no idea who but just as obviously an NFL
fan—gave me a "tush push" and I made it up the step. The remainder of the steps were built for us
ordinary folks so I made it to my seat.
This has happened at every home game. By now I am the pre-game entertainment that
the whole crowd breathlessly waits for.
Even if their own team loses, they get to watch an old lady make an
absolute idiot out of herself. But I do
it for my grandson and I would do it every day if I had to. I went to a flag football game and nearly got
creamed by a player going out of bounds as I sat on the sideline. The young man found out he was really good at
hurdles. I went to a play and sat in
front of a wiggly group of kindergartners.
I babysat for 18 days and by the time it was over I could hardly move I
was so tired. I "ate"
spaghetti and meatballs made of pine straw and rocks. I kept chicken nuggets in my freezer along
with curly fries for one and sweet potato fries for the other, and always kept
the cookie jar full. You do these things
when you are a grandparent, and you don't mind a bit if you look or sound
ridiculous doing it, if it's tiring, inconvenient, or embarrassing.
For, I think, God
hath set forth us the apostles last of all, as men doomed to death: for we are
made a spectacle unto the world, both to angels and men. We
are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in
Christ; we are weak, but you are strong; you have glory, but we have dishonor. Even unto this
present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and
have no certain dwelling-place; and we toil, working with our own hands: being
reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure;1Cor4:9-12
Paul said the apostles were willing to be
made a spectacle for the sake of Christ, his gospel and his church. How about us?
I am afraid we are too proud sometimes.
Who wants to look different than the rest of the world? I honestly think that is the real reason for
immodesty, not the desire to show off skin.
We just do not want to be different.
My skirts were the longest ones in my high school class, along with two
other Christians. Unfortunately, there
were more than two other Christians at the school. Lucas finally gave up on the high school
baseball team because the locker room talk was so vulgar, coarse, and
crude. My own Daddy was ridiculed at
work because his language did not match the other workers'. They called him, "Shucks," but you
know what? I never even heard that word
come out of his mouth.
What are we not willing to do for the Lord
because it will affect how we are perceived by our neighbors, coworkers, or
unconverted family? In our old home, we
were friends with some Mennonites. Do
you think those women and girls were never stared at when they went grocery
shopping? Their long skirts and modest
tops, their hair pinned high in something resembling a snood, definitely
garnered attention from others, most of it unkind. While I do not believe we need to be that
careful, I find myself wondering if any of us could take it if it were required
by God. Can we really say we love the
Lord our God with all [our] heart and
with all [our] soul and with all [our] might (Deut 6:4)?
I will do most anything for my
grandchildren, just as I did for my children.
I do it because of how much I love them.
Maybe we should ask ourselves if we love God and our Lord Jesus that
much.
For the love of Christ
constrains us; because we
thus judge, that one died for all, therefore all died;and he died for all, that they that live should no
longer live unto themselves, but unto him who for their sakes died and rose
again2Cor5:14,15
Dene Ward