My Grandsons – a chapter or a book in the story of our lives

. . . and now we are safely home again.  

I cried a bit on the way home and since I’m home.  A bit.  Okay, a LOT.  Just lots of emotions crashing around my heart.  Especially after being with Raph and Gina and the boys.  Too many memories, and so many things to think about.  I wish we lived closer.  But then –.   Maybe it is better this way. I just want to hold them and squish them and fix everything for them.

Most of all, I want them to love us –Grandpa and Grammy, and all the Yutzy aunts and uncles and cousin.  They are so little.  They are accustomed to people moving in and out of their lives and not staying.  Or not coming back.  They are fresh from a traumatic upheaval.  And all the rules are different for living.  My heart aches for them in ways I cannot describe.  Just this deep, desperate ache because no matter what happens, these little boys will still have missed so much.  

And it’s not fair.

I know, I know, life isn’t fair.  But Oh, Lord Jesus, would it be too much to ask that somehow, someway, life could be fair for the children?  Especially in the things that really matter?

The theology is there.  I know the right answers.  I know that man is a free moral agent and when people make wrong choices, the innocent suffer.  And usually I can find peace with this.

But tonight the injustice of it all shines out in three pairs of dark eyes, and my heart hurts.

Once again, I do not know the end from the beginning.  This story is not finished yet.  God has yet to write the final chapter.  Who am I to say that this coming into Raph and Gina’s family isn’t what God had in mind all along?  I don’t know.  I don’t know. I don’t know. 

But I do know that I prayed specifically for the child or children that God would bring into this home. Long before I knew there were these three little boys, before I knew that Raph and Gina would take a sibling group, before all of this, I prayed.  And I believe that for this place and this time, this is what God has.  I do not need to know the future.  But I can pray about that, too.

And I also know this:  

                             Jesus loves the little children.  

                             All the children of the world.  

                             Red, brown, yellow, black and white.  

                             They are precious in His sight.  

                             Jesus loves the little children of the world.

And that means the three little boys that I am glad to call my grandbabies.    

I’ve learned long to trust that love.

I choose to do so now.