Did we ever! Oh, did we ever. Mind our P’s and Q’s, that is.
For nine days, we ‘minded’ the one small prince and the two tiny queens that came to Auntie’s house to visit. For nine days, my four males here entered the foreign world of dollies on the floor and little pink clothes in the laundry. What a week it was.
As I’d announced with great happiness, after praying for months for the chance to go down and see the babies, Jesus answered my prayer a different way, and He brought the babies to me. For the first time, we got to meet Brady Cole (2) and Halli Grace (1), and we got reacquainted with their big sister, Ashlyn Kaye (3). You read that right – ages 1, 2, and 3.
They brought their mama and daddy, those babies did. Their daddy is my baby brother, and their mama is one of the best choices he ever made. And even though I always say, “You weren’t spanked enough as a kid,” I must confess (whispering here) that I have a soft spot for that kid who grew up to be a preacher.
Their story is different. I’ve told it before – how Jesus brought them together. How they parented other peoples’ kids (youth pastors). How the Lord said ‘no’ to babies of their own,. How they said ‘yes’ right back when He said “will you,” and they took those first two right in.
Then came the divine ‘yes,’ and God sent Halli Grace (“unexpected gift”), and her daddy said, “But I thought we were always going to pick ours up!” and, “Do you want a litter?” and we all rejoiced and praised Father God.
For nine days, I played with girlies and savored the look of tiny blue jeans. We sang “Happy Birthday” and celebrated Ash’s fourth birthday.
Auntie reveled in the sight of impossibly cute girl clothes and bare piggies and the faltering steps of a beginning walker. I soaked up baby giggles with teeth all showing and dimples and curls and the smell of Baby Magic.
We laughed when we found thread webs strung all through the upstairs by Little and his cousin, discovering a nest of spools buried beneath the tee-pee. We took pictures of the two, darting across the yard in Little’s Hummer, Little at the wheel, beaming passenger at his side.
We sighed at the endless pranks and quips, at the squirt guns and water fights and constant games of Trampoline Ball by our boys and their uncle. We gasped when they came in from a wild game of Scary, lumps on their heads from a crash in the dark. We talked late into the night, savoring the moments.
Watching them with their small flock, I remembered again that God gives grace along with a calling, and that He eQuips His people to do impossible things. Three children, three years, one preemie (special needs), fussy eaters, and diapers galore with bottles and Gerber and Bumbo seats…grace and grace alone.
Today, I praise the Father of Lights, Giver of every good and perfect gift, Doer of the Impossible. He never changes, never wearies, and He helps His kids to join Him in impossible callings.