Psalm 71:18 So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.
Thom invited Eliot, Peter and me along on a business trip this past week. We didn't go far, just to Connecticut. The 4 Amigos on an adventure. We went to parks during the mornings, ate at McDonald's for lunch where the boys climbed like monkeys through the play place. Then after nap time for Peter, (and Mommy!) we went swimming in the hotel pool! I can't even begin to describe the strange looks and the pointed questions I received. But Grandma and Grandpa? Well, at least we got a free breakfast out of it and a chance to boast in what God was doing in our lives and the lives of our boys.
(Back Story 1) It was the last day of our stay in CT. Thommy's company provided food vouchers for him each morning, but not for us. So on our last day we brought the boys down to the dining area where we were promptly greeted by our hostess. She was Hispanic and noticed Eliot right away commenting on how handsome he was and she couldn't resist tweaking Peter's cheek. Finally, as we were finally in our seats with all table condiments out of reach, our hostess walked over and asked the boys, "Is Grandma and Grandpa going to get you your food now?" We laughed and shared our story briefly with her and there were tears in her eyes. She looked straight into my eyes and said, "This is a very good thing you have done!" We boasted in the goodness of God to us that He would give us such precious little ones. When we went to leave, she gave me a little hug, said good-bye to the boys and told Thom that his voucher was all she needed. We thanked her for her kindness and left. God entered into that meal, that hotel dining room, that hotel employee's world and was dazzling.
I remember sitting at McDonald's one afternoon and looking around the play area. It was like a Grandparent support group. Lots of gray hair bragging on their grandchildren. Even when the kids acted out, Grandma or Grandpa would handle the situation calmly and with a smile. Wisdom. What broke my observation was a loud, "Mommy, Peter is going up the tube and got stuck! Can you please come and get him?" You know those moments when the room gets quiet and all eyes fasten on you? Well, welcome to my moment. And what entertainment I must have provided for all the folks as I kicked off my shoes and lumbered my way into the first section of tube grabbing Peter's foot and pulling the giggly boy down. Fortunately, this time I didn't get stuck.
Psalm 71:9 Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent.
It almost seems to me that boasting in what God has done isn't enough when it comes to parenting Eliot and Peter. He certainly has far exceeded our hopes and prayers for Emily and Megan. My God called us in our weakness to do something that only His strength could complete. But as I look to these scriptures I am thrilled that even at the ripe old age of 51 I have a great purpose. I get to proclaim to our little boys, and all the little friends along the way, the reason why, the Gospel. And just like with the girls, we get the joyful privilege of training them up in the Gospel of Jesus and hope for their salvation. Our work isn't done! The most relieving thoughts I have had recently are simply that I don't need physical strength to do this glorious job. God's grace will complete the work here. I have His promise that He will not forsake or leave me, that He will be my strength in weakness.
So when I am older and grayer, my sons will just be turning 20, and hopefully, by God's grace, God's word will dwell richly in them and the power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ will be such a passion for them that they will take up the mantel from us, like their sisters and tell all the nieces, nephews, friends, cousins, Aunties and Uncles rippling out to future generations that Jesus is Alive and stands ready to save. And by God's grace they will love the church and serve her well, bringing the light of Jesus into their homes and communities. That my friends is worth so much more than all the stares and Grandma and Grandpa comments.
O Dear Lord, if you tarry and I live even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. Here I am, your humble servant, use me!
On October 23, 1998, my mother, Patricia Ann Goley, died in my arms at the age of 62 from lung cancer. Her esophagus ruptured and her life's blood poured onto her bathroom floor as I cried out to God to help us. Within 2 minutes I could sense the presence of Jesus and I knew Mom was with her Savior and Free! What a gift from God to be holding my Mom as she departed from this world and entered into her rest.
Today, on October 23, 2011, we dedicated Peter in church in front of all our brothers and sisters declaring that we would raise Peter up in Christ and the church by God's grace. There he was, finally in our arms, surrounded by the very people that made it possible for him to come home, sharing in our joy. It was only afterwards that my husband Thommy made me aware of the significance of the date and while still standing there my eyes melted into tears. So many other thoughts flowed with tears throughout today. Memories really.
(Back Story 1) My mom loved kids and loved us more than anything. Her job was working with children who couldn't read for varying reasons. She was a reading specialist. The children she taught were truly helped and according to the professionals she worked with, the children successfully started reading and caught up to the typical peer group. Mom often said that she knew exactly how to help them because she was so much like them. She too had a hard time learning and worked hard all her educational life, getting any and all the help she needed to achieve a Master's Degree +. Her passion was to give her students not just tools to make the grade, but her love and help. My brother, sister and I can say the same.
And here we are with the gift of Peter. Mom gave me the wonderful gift of her confidence that I could do what I set out to do and then the tools necessary to do them. I loved her for this. Because today, when I look at Peter I don't see a disabled boy unable to be "typical", I see all the possibilities that face him. And the same God that saved my mother 2 months prior to her death, is the same God that will give this little boy what he needs for life and godliness. And in Peter's great cloud of witnesses stands one Grammy routing him on. Every 23rd of October when I think of my Mother's homecoming, I will also be telling one special little boy all about what he shares with his Grammy.
"Did you ever know that your my hero? And everything I wish I could be? Now I can fly higher than an eagle, 'cause you are the wind beneath my wings." Wind Beneath my Wings
Thank you Mommy for being my hero. I have such a significant, purposeful and rich heritage. Everything tied together in the wonderful tapestry of grace that God my Father ordained as my life. He even redeemed October 23, 1998. Indeed I have a wonderful inheritance.
Recently I noticed something odd in my upstairs bathroom. The toilet seat is up! And rightly so! For 16 years the lady portion of our family dominated the upstairs and so the seat was down. Now is the time for the Men! I am smiling. I am grateful. My husband and my boys, what a happy scene.
In the mornings I hear Thom say, "Good morning gentlemen". Off goes the sleepy-time music and on goes the Micky Mouse Clubhouse CD. For so many years it has been, "Good morning Ladies, rise and shine!" Now. . . robust laughing and silly sayings and loud noises of boys wrestling their Daddy as he fake falls to the ground. Pull-ups and diapers out in the pale and two little happy boys settle down on our laps for Bible study. I love watching Thommy love his boys and model Jesus right in front of their eyes.
Breakfast is next and as it is announced roars rise up from the play area. Kid's Cookie Break is playing in the background as we put their meals together and ours. We barely get through mealtime prayers before one of the boys dives into their food. And oh the plans Eliot has for his grand adventure. By this point, Peter is usually wanting something more and wriggling in his seat with every delicious mouthful. He gets so excited that he yells and reaches to hug Daddy and me. What bliss. So different from when Emily and Megan grew up.
Then down to serious playing. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, we deliver a local paper as a family (not including Thommy). The girls head off on their parts of the routes but before they can go Eliot makes sure that they have maps, cell phones and a very long hug from him. Eliot runs each route and over a two day period that could add up to 15-20 miles worth of foot action. He throws papers for me and makes sure that I am OK. As each route ends, Peter greets his sisters with a warm wave and exuberant hopping up and down in his stroller seat.
And the movies we watch have nothing to do with Prince Charming. It's all action or fuzzy monsters, defeating evil or teaching numbers or shapes. And of course, role playing with swords or karate kicks. I just smile as I think back to the girls and how they would watch say Cinderella and then go upstairs to their play room and pretend the whole movie making up dialogue as the went along. Eliot and Peter get done watching a movie and get up the stairs to the back porch for some pretty physical play. And of course more music.
Bath time is very wet and bedtime is very purposeful. Each boy has favorite books, each has a way they must sit on Daddy's lap or mine, each has a special way of climbing into their beds and each has an interesting way of praying. Daddy wakes them up and puts them down most of the time and I get to listen in and smile. And as I think over the days activities I again realize that I have left the realm of raising little girls and have entered a new season. So when the lights are turned off and the door to the little boy's room is closed I slip down to my girls apartment and put on sanity as I listen to them share their days with me.
Peter, Eliot, Thommy and Me, the Four Amigos! New dreams and grand stories or heroic deeds are dreamed upstairs. And I am so glad to be the one sharing in it all. What wonderful creatures boys are!
