I now have 8 grandchildren. Varying from ages 2 1/2 to 21 years old. I've learned a lot from them over the years. Basic things like how to love deeply, protectively, and longingly. They've kept me humble and teachable and ignited my imagination. I love being with them. I always want to make myself available--to babysit and take them places. I love taking them shopping, camping, out to lunch, and sneaking them little treats. All those grandma things that parents shake their heads at.
However, I mostly love sitting and asking questions. And that's where this story begins. I learned yesterday that I do not know everything. Even in my ripe old age of grandma life--I have much to learn. I was taught this very thing while sitting with my 7-year-old grandson.
I must give a little background on him. He is the second son of my second son. He looks like his uncle-- my oldest son in stature and height. And yet, oh and yet...he has the same personality as his father. In other words, I can read him like a book. Each facial expression I have seen before, each gesture, each shrug of the shoulder, they are all familiar to me. I'm sure he's not too pleased with that revelation. I am constantly one step ahead of his mischievous shenanigans. I believe the word imp came from him. He's adorable.
I was with these grandkids yesterday while their parents were at an appointment; I made it a day of asking questions and learning more about what makes them tick. Just what do they think of this and that? The 7-year-old and I had a fascinating talk about twins. He did not know that there were two types of twins. I mentioned that one type was identical in every way. Even their DNA. He listened intently. learning about the two types and asking questions--leading to triplets, and so on. Finally, after he'd heard enough, he had something he wanted to teach me. So, he very seriously rested his hand on mine and said--grandma, they aren't identical in every way. Not exactly. They have different fingerprints. God made them unique. Each person has their own fingerprints. Then he held his fingertip to mine. Tears sprung to my eyes.
I had forgotten about the fingerprint part. So much so that I had to google it. And, of course, he was right. We are all uniquely made in the very image of God. Each one of us, and it took a 7-year-old to remind me.
My prayer is that I am always young enough to learn. Learn from anyone at any time. Even from a 7-year-old. And especially from my grandchildren.
