grandpa's hands...grandpa's heart
In a recent, unexpected turn of events, we have acquired a couple of house guests. Hubby's 82 year old grandpa being one of them. It has been a fun 4 days, with an undetermined amount of days still to come. I just could not lose these thoughts, I didn't want them to get away from me as school is powering up tomorrow. Yes, my extended holiday is over...God works in mysterious ways, and all for our good.
You see, grandpa is a very sharp, articulate, and kind 82 year old. He is a veteran, a father, grandfather, great-grandfather. He is a friend to many, never meets a stranger, and likes a good hug. (my grandmother particularly doesn't mind getting one from him) He is a FoxNews fanatic and a conservative Democrat through and through. He is a proud American. He was there when they raised the flag at Iwo Jima. His ship carried troops there and was in the middle of countless air raids a day. Grandpa likes routine, he likes golf, and bluegrass music. He may be one of the only people who ever tell my husband they are proud of him besides me. He is tough, but when my boys talk to him he listens and praises their every move.
Just the other day when we asked them to stay with us, I was selfishly thinking these are my last 3 days with the boys before my school year begins. I was selfish and bummed. I was mad at the cause of the situation, mad at hubby's brother and wife for causing drama of their own in a different state causing hubby to have to lose vacation to fly up and help them out. I was mad that my oldest will be a Kindy in a week and no one is worried about that. I was a jerk.
God has taught me a lot the last few days.
#1, don't get offended when your mother-in-law questions you for not bleaching your clothes the right way...little did she know you don't at all because it breaks everyone out.
#2, don't worry every time grandpa is picking lint out of the carpet and rugs. It is just something he does...regardless if you were to vacuum daily and have 2 small boys and have added a new dog to the mix.
#3, and most importantly...cherish times like this when God throws you a curve ball. Love every moment of it. Be honest with your 5 year old, because he knows everything anyway but has twisted the details in his mind. Reach within to meet your potential as a hostess, wife, daughter, granddaughter. Be yourself, and realize how much more is going on in the world than just in your little corner and you will learn so much from it.
Me and the boys took grandpa to Target today and he got a swimsuit. So excited that it was on sale. Tonight he went to our neighborhood pool with all of us. He finally relaxed for a bit. We heard old stories of skiing at the Lake and losing his top teeth. The boys never laughed so hard. Today was a great day...and right in the middle of it I got this email from a former student's mom. Very appropriate, and she would have had no clue what was going on in my life. Here is just part of it...
Grandpa smiled and related this story to his grandchild:"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have;how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler Icrashed upon the floor.They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war.They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot.They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ ."
