Dear Grandchildren,
One of the great holes in my life has always been grandparents. And by that I mean close, loving relationships with ANY of my parents’ parents. I have always longed for a relationship with a grey-haired, wise, funny old person who had stories to tell. Who loved me (kind of) like parents but better, sweeter. Who wasn’t bothered by me, or scared I would do something they would have to discipline me for, because their parenting record wasn’t on the line. Who would smile at my mischief, give me sweets when they first saw me (just because), and tell me all about what it was like “way back then.” I’m not sure, but I have the feeling that having even ONE grandparent in my life would have grounded me. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard to believe I am loved, just for being born. Maybe they would have learned lessons from hard experiences in their own life and been able to teach me how they got through those times. Maybe they would have heard from God and told me what He said. Maybe what He told them, years ago, would be exactly what I needed to hear, today.
So, that is one reason I am writing here. For you, my precious grandchildren. I want to tell you EVERYTHING that God has taught me throughout my life. Yes, that’s a lot. No, I don’t remember everything perfectly. But as much as I do remember, I hope to write down, so the lessons aren’t lost. Toni Morrison said, “The function of freedom is to free someone else.” Therefore, since I’ve been set free from fear of disappointing God and the struggle of self-hatred, I write, so you, too, can believe in God’s unconditional, ravishing love for you. Maybe you can hear God’s voice for your present circumstances whispered down through the years in my stories.
This is for you. I haven’t even met you yet (at this moment not of my sons are even married!), but I love you SO MUCH. You are an amazing miracle, just for being born.
You are so loved,
Grandma
Counted Worthy 