Saturday, March 28, 2009

"Sons are a heritage from the Lord;

Children are a reward from Him." Psalm 127. And I would add that grandchildren are a glimpse of heaven. Sam was born last week, and he and his mama are doing well. The rest of us are catching up on our sleep. I'm so grateful for this little boy, our fifth grandchild. What a blessing to live long enough to meet your children's children. I joke that I'm donating my brain cells to my grandchildren to explain why I don't remember things as quickly as I once did, but the truth is that they have taught me to expand my capacity for love.

When my sons were born, I learned what it was like, as someone wiser than me said, to have my heart walk around outside my body. With our grandchildren, I've learned the reality of sorrow and joy doubled. When something happens with one of these little ones, either good or bad, my heart rejoices, or hurts, for both the child and my child. Some of my friends are now having great-grandchildren, an experience I cannot imagine as our oldest grandchild is seven.

What I know for sure is that I have been richly blessed by the sons who are a heritage from God, and by the reward of knowing both them and their children.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Waiting for Sam

My life is in something of a holding pattern at the moment as we await the arrival of another grandchild, Sam. He's actually not due for almost two more weeks, but as he tried to put in an early appearance the week before last, we have all been expecting him to show up at anytime. After the early warning, however, he seems to be content to lie low. I've told his mama that he appears to be a prankster. Nonetheless, my bag is packed, and I'm ready to head out at a moment's notice.

When our daughter-in-law first began having contractions, her doctor sent her home on bed rest for a few days, which thankfully stopped the process. The news sent my mind racing back in time 30 years to the 10 weeks I spent on bed rest before Sam's daddy was born. Thirty years ago, being born after only 6 1/2 months gestation was essentially a death sentence. The treatment to stop early labor was basically Benadryl, alcohol and a lot of prayer. Fortunately I was cared for by a physician at a teaching hospital, who gave me an experimental drug when things threatened to get out of hand, and it worked. With the help of our church, many friends, and God, our youngest son arrived safe and sound only a week early. I've been prompted in the last week to write the story for this son, who is now waiting for his own son to arrive, to remind him that every baby is a miracle, and that he was more of a miracle than most.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue