A Time To Be Thankful.....

Art and I celebrated our 41st anniversary on February 1. Truly it seems like yesterday that we got engaged and then married. So much has happened in these years.

I'm 60 years old and if I live to be 80 I've already lived 3/4 of my life, and a good half of it has been with my sweetie...(my enduring term for Art when I'm writing about him or to him:)

41 years is a long time, it has been hard work, but what a joy it is to not only be married to a person that long, but to still be friends. We can't take all the credit, God in his great mercy and goodness has blessed us and given us time to get it right. He is good.

As I looked at the last posted picture of my grand children I was struck at how quickly time does goes by. The scripture teaches that there is a time for everything. sometimes it is good to be reminded.

"There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for everything under heaven....
A time to give birth and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
a time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace."

I love that this scripture covers a lifetime of events, but there is one not here that pertains to long distance grandmas.
I would say that there is a time for the grand children to be born ,go to the mission field with mom and dad and grow up.
They will grow up whether I see it happening on a daily basis or not. It struck me looking at this picture how really big they are.

With each of my Vanuatu grandchildren, God has given me a snippets of time or a memory that just like Mary I treasure in my heart.

I remember the first born He has always been such a precocious child, eager to learn, eager to explore, and eager to talk about it. I would strap him in the stroller and we would walk the couple of blocks to the campus where his daddy and mommy were studying. We would look at the flags from the many countries flying over the visitors center. He was only 2, but I would point out each flag and tell him the names of the represented country. He seemed to love the information. Then we would head for the playground, taking the time to pick up rocks and stray feathers along the way.
One of those feathers still holds a permanent spot in the corner of my jewelry box.
Those walks were the best times...

The second child is my sweet girl. She is my only granddaughter.
I remember the day she was born. I had boarded the plane to be with my son and his family without knowing if we were having a boy or a girl.
I was met at the plane, "Mom its a girl," I can still feel the excitement and genuine joy I felt at the time.
I ran through that airport literally shouting praise and telling any who would listen that we had a GIRL a real girl...You have to understand that I have two sons, and 7 grandsons. She was the first and the last girl.
Two years ago, Sierra and I took a road trip together. I drove and she found every McDonald's within a two hundred mile radius. We had a great time getting to know one another over french fries and milkshakes.

The third born, how easy it is for them to get lost especially if he leaves for the field at two months old. I remember the morning they left. He was sleeping upstairs when I gathered him in my arms and prayed over him. His nursing mother had prepared a bottle so that this grieving grandma could feed him. She is thoughtful like that. I cried hard in Arts arms that day cause I knew next time I saw him he would be 3 or 4.
What a sensitive heart this little guy has. Last time I went to Vanuatua he made it his mission to get baby Grace to let me hold her. She would go to him but not me. She was terrified at the sight of me. It took days, but with a ball (all his idea ),and much coaxing she finally allowed me to hold her. He jumped up and down with delight as she held the ball I bribed her with, and let me snuggle her.

And then there is that last child... (He is not in this picture.) some say that
the youngest always has it easier , all I know for sure is that this one has all of us wrapped around his finger.
He also left with his mommy and daddy to the mission field at two months old( my daughter in law is amazing. can you imagine raising two babies turned toddlers in all that dirt with all those bugs ,diseases and villagers that want to spit on them if they cry to much. I digress. Suffice to say the girl is a treasure. )

I remember his first week. I wrapped him up tightly and we walked around and around the block so that I could kiss his soft baby head,while crying out to God because this one was also leaving in two months.
Three months ago God gave us time together.
We had so much fun getting to know one another. His little face and the sound of his voice is etched in my memory.
"Me love you Grandma. You be sad when I leave?"
Yes my baby boy, but I will always remember this time.

Its hard being a long distance grandma.
over the years, I've learned not dwell on the time NOT spent with them but to embrace and be thankful for the time spent WITH them. Writing this I realized how many memories I do have, more than a few snippets.
It's taken effort and time, but my long distant grandchildren know me and they love me, and that's enough.