Going home is always accompanied by excited tummy flutters and the nostalgic overflow of memories, especially when we are traveling to our grandparents. They have lived in the same house since way before we were born, and now I have 23 years of memories stored up from all the adventures my cousins and I had growing up…some adventures still too fantastical for me to know for sure if they were ever real.
There was a brief period a few years back when there were no new babies, no toddling feet, no little voices to hear from the back yard. The swing set was getting rusty and my grandmother’s upstairs didn’t have any toys. It was like our family stood still waiting for grand kids to come along and bring all the fun back. Luckily, it didn’t take too long, and now my grandparents’ house is scattered with all things baby, the family seems revived, and the kids are getting old enough to have adventures of their own.
Along with my baby shower a couple weeks back, was my granddad’s birthday, so aunts, uncles, cousins and babies traveled in to celebrate. I spent the afternoon by the lake and the kiddos were excited to have stumbled upon a little caterpillar. Unfortunately, there was only one, so we spent some time searching the trees and bushes hoping to find a friend. Our efforts were to no avail, but they settled with new adventures by the lake, in the boat, on the playground.
One of my favorite parts of the weekend was the time I got to spend with my cousins Sophia, Masaryk, and Isaac. These three are brothers and sisters, and I can remember when each of them was born. The two boys are getting big now, running around, stopping only to show their treasures and hugging out of obligation and only after being asked…repeatedly.
But the girl, sweet little Sophia she still needs hugs and invites them often. She is round and snuggly and falls asleep in your arms and looks around the world giggling at all the things she sees. We sat on the blanket for an afternoon and wondered at the world around us. I enjoyed that time.
I can’t wait until blanket time with baby Bush, watching him grow in wonder at his world until he is old enough to finally step out and start adventures of his own. The eye of a child is such a sweet thing, full of admiration and inquiry, seeking the pleasure and approval of their parents with faithful expectation that they can accomplish anything. Their little bodies are able to rest in our arms, which seem to be made for the repose of little children.
Isn’t this how it is with God? Aren’t we the children whom He beacons to rest in His wings? Doesn’t he desire that we look to Him with faithful expectation and awe of what He could possibly be capable of doing through us? It’s my prayer that our children will help me to rely more on my Father, that I will understand more of what it means to have faith like a child, that I will look to God with eyes of humility and expectation.