There is a red firetruck in my bathroom, and it makes me smile. Not a little grin, mind you, but one of those ginormous goofy grins.
That little truck is proof my little E has been here, in all his 18 month old glory.
I am amazed at how this little boy has been a ball of joy, and a constant light in my life. God sent him at the most critical time. A time when I did not want to live.
His arrival coincided with calamity. It seemed so drear that his dad was in prison. My life was in shambles. What kind of support was his young mom going to have? What kind of life would this innocent kid have?? I always imagined a little home for my grandchildren to come visit… one with a sweet walkway to come running up, a backyard with flowers and toys to play on, and a sunny kitchen to bake goodies and do random toddler science experiments and play doh creations.
I had recently moved to a little third floor apartment, that was a far cry from anything I could have imagined living.
After a break up from a long term relationship full of broken promises… I was left with poor health, poor finances, and a string of sadness. I continued to suffer with issues from treatment the aggressive breast cancer left behind. My mom passed only a few weeks after E was born. It was another life-blow. My fragile existence was not even hanging by a thread.
I remember the day I got the message that E had been born. I could not stop crying… joy, sadness, grief….. This tiny child. So perfect. Praise God he was healthy, and his mom was doing well. I was a grandmother. I could not process it.
I called the prison and asked to speak to my son, to tell him of the little one’ birth. In tears, I relayed my son’s information that he should have been there to witness himself. He was so grateful, and was appreciative when a kind guard walked by and said, “Congratulations, daddy.”
My life was so full of surreal things: going to a prison to see my son. Sitting bedside only a few weeks later at my mother’s deathbed. Consoling my distraught father after losing his wife of 52 years.
This tiny boy coming into this crazy situation. On more than one occasion I asked God,
“What are you doing???”
The worst was, when I stopped asking. I stopped wondering and thinking that the God of the universe cared for me. Obviously, He didn’t.
I never doubted His goodness…or His sovereignty, but his desire for good things for me?
Yep, I had completely given up. I was tired. Worn, sad, used up, hopeless, void. Done.
I had plans. Put things in motion. All was set. I had gone to the bank, written letters.
E’s mom called and wanted to bring days-old E to meet me.
What could I lose in meeting this small boy?
My heart. I lost my heart.
I held him in wonder. His little head was shaped like his daddy’s. He was the most beautiful infant I have ever seen in my life. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I held this tiny being, straight from God’s heart. Thought up in his omnipresent mind….and could it be, that He was thinking of me, too?
We would be fast friends, sweet boy and I. I have loved every minute of his milestones and growth. I adored all of the goodness in being a parent when G was young, but this? It is in another realm. I think we are more relaxed and more in wonder at the grandparent stage.
I’d like to say I did not entertain further thoughts on leaving, but that took more months to work out, with grappling, like we have to do with our faith. There were many long conversations with the Lord where I would sit rocking this sleeping infant in my arms, and nothing else to distract me, and that is when God would come to sit with my broken heart. We chatted a lot. He was binding up wounds.
While I was holding E, He was holding me.
Bottom line- He is a good God. He has plans to give us a hope and a future, plans to prosper us and not for harm.
This bitty one came into this world under hard circumstances. But there is such great purpose.
Another tiny life emerged thousands of years ago and became the Savior of the world.
That tiny firetruck… God’s rescue, and the joy of a little boy.
HolliStillStanding 