Losing My Grip

Last month Patricia, our youngest daughter, turned 27, but logistics prevented us all getting together to celebrate till yesterday when ten of us gathered at a Chinese restaurant to feast and rejoice with her.

The family showered her with useless gifts and even more useless advice about how to live her life.

I feel enormously proud of her. When she was a teen, I despaired of her surviving to adulthood. We grated on one another and tensions ran high. I’m so happy she proved me wrong in my dire predictions for her future. She now displays wisdom and insights and maturity I never guessed at. Sometimes water does rise higher than its source.

After the birthday feast, we re-assembled at our house for a family conference over several issues that concern all of us.

I pontificated as usual but I made sure that each and every person in turn had a chance to put in their two cents worth. The collective wisdom of the whole family far outshines my old-foggy opinions.

These wonderful people amaze me.

I’m honored and humbled to be a part of this group.

At times our conference turned uproariously funny as we teased and taunted and offered outrageous suggestions; at other times our meeting turned solemn and silent as we prayed and gave thanks for one another, committing ourselves on some level into God’s hands.

Speaking of hands…

Say you pull into a parking space in the grocery store’s crowded parking lot and walk with your four-year-old toward the store holding hands.

A parking lot is a dangerous place for four-year-olds.

The child holds your hand — sometimes. Maybe. But sometimes the kid fidgets and even tries to pull away and run off into traffic.

The adult guardian also holds the child’s hand — all the time and does not let go.

I read recently that this is a picture of our walk with Christ.

We are the children of God — but we are not grownup, adult, responsible members of His family; we are the four-year-olds of God.

Sometimes we hold His hand. Makes us feel big, in charge, in control of things. But often we pull away. We lose our grip.

God never loses His grip.

I find that a comfort.

After the family left, Ginny and I lounged in front of the tv watching football.

The Jacksonville Jaguars lost their football game to the Washington Redskins led by Mark Brunell, a former Jaguar quarterback — one they treated shabbily and fired before trading him to the Redskins.

Do I detect a bit of justice here?