A notice comes on my phone. A picture of my great-grandson pops up. I open the app and find a video of his mommy talking to him, leaning over his little tummy and digging her head into his soft middle. I hear the delightful sounds of baby gurgling which erupts into baby laughter.
His shriek of joy warms my insides and sets my heart aglow. The bubbling belly laughs repeat, effervescent and joyful. Contagious. Before long, I find myself laughing too.
In little but growing ways, it’s as if there is a sort of unraveling in my adulthood. Like I’m unwinding in reverse toward littleness. Mounting years seem to send me back to where I once began.
The floor is way down there and the haul up is not pretty. Energy seeps through my pores, and new things are daunting, like an unchartered cliff to climb. Where did I put my car keys, is just a step from where did I put my car? In full disclosure, I have walked a few parking lots with an overflowing cart. In the rain. That woman.
Forgetting is a common life practice. People much younger than I am scatter expensive adult-sippy cups like crumbs, lose cell phones, and leave jackets on other’s hooks. No one thinks much about it. But when I forget the smallest thing, like that elusive name that dances on the fringes of my mind, everyone’s background music turns sinister.
As I follow along this golden path, I find the interpretation of things I say, morphs. Things to do with memory, energy or physical health are suddenly expressions that bring a frown of concern.
Offhand comments of an entire lifetime begin to take on a disturbing quality. “I forgot,” “I’m tired,” and a simple “Ouch, that hurts,” produce reactions when said in “old-speak” and heard by “young-speak.”
As I scroll those baby pictures with nostalgia in my heart, I cannot help but feel like just yesterday it was my baby and I was on the floor tickling her belly and listening to her laugh. Today it is a great grandchild squealing and gurgling. Sands of time, once leisurely sifting, now pour.
In a history of Judah’s decline as a nation, when idolatry angered and broke the heart of God, He responded to them as a loving and committed Father. The kind of paternal image on the floor with us.
“Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save. (Isaiah 46:4 ESV)
And this softness, this carrying from the womb to the grave that I watch cycle through generations, reminds me of God’s parenting. Of His tenderness through the years, of His faithful carrying from generation to generation.
How beautiful the image of my great-grandson laughing, cradled in the arms of his parents. How faithful the testimony of God who carries the gray headed wrapped in His arms and blanketed in decades of love.
I see myself differently now than I did once. Others do too, but how does God see me? He saw me with a baby face, He sees me with the mapped lines of passing years. He saw me when tears fell from nothing, and when they flowed from much. And He has loved me always.
It’s good to remember the miraculous parting of our Red Seas, as well as the paths we’ve walked through the valley of the shadow of death. These layers of our history of life are unique and individual proofs of His care. They testify to generations not yet born of His daily care. Of constant lovingkindness.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16 ESV)
The years ahead of me are ones for the brave and courageous. They are years to learn laughter in the parking lot and at the name spinning slightly out of reach. They bring to mind a Father who made me and cradled me. One who remains with me to the end and saves me with His love.
These are years to learn to laugh again.
Gurgles of giggles from the screen on my phone remind me Who carried me then, will carry me yet. His arms are steady. His grip is sure. A baby’s tiny pursed lips and twinkling eyes fill my heart with joy and point me to look upward.These are years to learn to laugh again Share on X
“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.” (Psalm 71:18 ESV)
And in this journey I feel the marvelous belly laughter rising in me through this baby’s reminder. There is a Father whose amazing love carries me still.
Walt Stuart
Thank you Sylvia. Oh how I identify with your words and how giggled when you describe your giggling great
Grandson. Enjoy
Sylvia Schroeder
Walt! What a delight to hear from you. I’m honored you enjoyed it. Just saw great-grandchild #3, and feeling blessed! Thanks so much for reading and responding!
Nancy Ruegg
You continue to amaze me, Sylvia, with your wise insights and your unique style of expression. For example, this beautifully poetic line touched my heart for its poignancy: “Sands of time, once leisurely sifting, now pour.” How true! But I’m praising God with you that that he lovingly carries us still!
Sylvia Schroeder
Nancy, thank you so much for your kind words. This image of the Father carrying from womb to gray haired has been so sweet to me. I’m so thankful for Jesus’ carrying. Thanks for taking the time to read and share your thoughts.
Dwight
Sylvia, you have such a unique way of describing my thoughts! I needed to laugh again today even though my body is just living up to the Word of God…wasting away! Thanks for the reminder to keep it serious but lite!
Sylvia Schroeder
Dwight, thanks so much for responding, even if it may be aches and pains that prompted it! I appreciate recognizing the faithfulness of God in this journey.
Ann Newcomer
I love this, Sylvia! The reminder of His care for us always.
The Psalm of Old Age (Ps. 71) is such a great one!❤️
Sylvia Schroeder
Oh I do love Psalm 71! I am so grateful for God’s care in this stage of our lives. It is so evident, and He is gracious to make it so.
Betty Harder
You amaze me when you find so many lessons in the common things of life! Thanks.
Sylvia Schroeder
Thank you Betty! I am thankful for the major impact you had on my life…way back when!
Paul Wright
Thank you, Sylvia. Your skillful words resonate with my own thoughts and feelings. Blessed is the one who walks with the Lord from his youth.
Sylvia schroeder
Yes! Such a good reminder Paul. Thank you!
Katherine Pasour
Loved your message and can definitely identify with you. I’ve found myself doing some of the same “old people things” as you mention. But on the other hand, young people are forgetful, distracted, and confused, too. Getting old is not for the faint of heart, but we will go forward with courage.
Sylvia Schroeder
Thank you Katherine! It’s wonderful to have a fellow journey-er!
Lois S.
Thanks for the reminder of the Father who carries us “to gray hairs.” Sometimes I feel the need to be carried.
Sylvia Schroeder
I’m pretty sure we all feel that at times. The image of the Father carrying me was such a wonderful thought! Thank you Lois!
Carolyn
Yes and AMEN. Such hopeful words to read and such solid truth to dwell in. I’m right next to you in the “pouring”–thank you, my friend!
Sylvia Schroeder
Thanks so much Carolyn!
Toni Lesinger
Such beautiful, poignant words Sylvia.
Love reading your posts:)
Sylvia Schroeder
Thank you Toni! I am glad to hear you enjoy them!! Hope you are yours are well.