I found the crayon-drawn picture lying on a chair, during my hurry-and-pick-up-the-house-cleaning. Time tightened before guests arrived, and the house reflected the chaos of muddy shoes and thrown pillows.
I’d read its message on Mother’s Day, when my grandson handed it to me, but I needed it more today.
This day, when I deserved it the least, it meant the most. This day, when the urgency and interruption heightened into a rushing crankiness.
“Best Gramma Ever,” it read.
Was it a lie? Because today my rating was underwater.
I snatched up the message, probably cajoled into being by his kind prodding parents, and pressed it against my heart. In that quiet posture, I breathed in its essence.
Overwhelmed by how much unmerited love weaved its abundance through the fabric of my being, gratitude washed over and through me. A gracious Hand beckoned me into His embrace.
Even as my sharp, “because I said so,” still echoed in the airwaves.
Even when my own busy agenda rose in importance over little children’s slight inconveniences.
Even if I didn’t wipe my hands on my apron and stop to bend over and help with a simple task.
Even though I masked unwillingness with, “maybe later,” trusting on later not happening.
Under-par grandma would better describe my day.
But those words, “The Best,” found their way into my busyness and into my heart. Best mattered in the DNA of the family in which I was raised, and perhaps it still mattered far too much, because the bar is far too unattainable. Good is good. Great is better. Best is…well, best.
And the reach to the best stretches over an unattainable gap, for someone will always be better.
Falling unequivocally short, left me unhappy. Unsatisfied.
Yet, there in my hand I held the ultimate unearned prize. I was awarded not good, or great, but “best.”
Pressed between my fingers the thin computer paper with its crude drawing felt like a golden medal. It warmed and settled me as no store-bought card could.
It brought a message of love and acceptance. Through the innocence of a child, not on the merit of what I deserved, I’d been declared “best” because of who I am. I am Gramma.
And that is that.
Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love, having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the Beloved. (Ephesians 1:4-6 NKJV)
“Accepted in the Beloved,” what a best and glorious phrase to those who have given their lives to Jesus. What higher declaration could possibly belong to us?
Paul’s message of Christ’s approval, rested on those who by faith alone in Jesus alone trusted Him alone for salvation.
In my hand I held just a tiny foretelling of something much greater. For this sweet gift of a child did not apply to everyone. It belonged to me, blessed and chosen Grandmother by God to be this grandson’s own.“Accepted in the Beloved,” what a best and glorious phrase to those who have given their lives to Jesus. Share on X
God’s acceptance of us in the Beloved opens the door to a privileged relationship, the privilege of a child united heart, mind, and soul to a Heavenly Father.
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” (1 John 3:1 NKJV)
Even if I fail miserably to follow Him as I should.
Even though I forget to be kind to others.
Even if I neglect to put Him before all else.
Even though I begin to think time itself belongs to me and not God.
The brother of Jesus, and author of the book of 1 John, had personal experience and knowledge as he went on to explain, “We love Him because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19 NKJV)
Jesus accepts me in the Beloved, not on the merit of what I’ve done, but on the truth of who He is. Holy. Blameless. Almighty God. He sees me through eyes of His forgiveness and His love. When He looks at me, He sees His child.
A little boy’s handwritten, naively faulty declaration of Best, felt like a kiss from heaven.
I am Christ’s child and He takes pleasure to be called my Father.
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