It’s interesting to note how Rebekah and I bring different but complimentary approaches to our time with the grandchildren. I guess it was much the same with Andrew and Naomi when they were little – but I think we were so completely preoccupied with raising them that we never really took a step back to observe ourselves in action.

My approach seems to be to flit in and out of activities with them while trying to get stuff done. Meals, shopping, outings, baths, naps. The kids helped me get the garbage out of the house and to the curb Thursday afternoon; we took Scout out for her walks; we lined everything up so they’d be all ready for church supper Wednesday evening; we always leave the park or the mall in time to get groceries on the way home. I have a mental checklist of the stuff that’s supposed to happen, then we cruise on through.

Rebekah does projects. She invites the children in to a creative world of learning and imagination, and then they become absorbed in whatever she has going on. Cardboard boxes, things they find in “the jungle,” hot glue, spray-paint, trips to the hardware store. Rebekah tells stories while they play, and they learn more – informally – in a couple of hours of grand-mama time than they could in a week of instruction.

Yesterday afternoon I looked out on the deck while I was cooking dinner and saw Beks sitting on the bench, completely absorbed in an issue of Southern Living; she has just turned two years old! Somehow her reading with Grandma led to further independent study. But that’s what happens when living/teaching/grandparenting/leading is invitational and backed up with a passion for life that simply spills over.

Grand-mama’s storybook stories take off and launch into adventures the authors and illustrators never had in mind. It’s as if, rather than simply telling them stuff, Rebekah is opening a portal into so much more.

So between us we get it done. And when David and Beks were pulling and pushing the garbage recycling can so determinedly up the driveway, David said it was a bulldozer and Beks giggled something about it being a brown dragon.

It turns out they were both right, because – at least when they come to our house – we want them to see every possibility that imagination, application, and some determined hard work can release.

Rebekah’s not Mary Poppins – there’s no deep bottomless bag full with magic, and an umbrella that flies; but she does manage to connect people (not just the gands, but everybody) with a quality of life and light that most of us miss too easily. And that – it turns out – is better than magic, it’s the Kingdom of God.

As for me? I’m certainly no marvel of household efficiency; but I do work hard to provide an atmosphere for the grands – and hopefully everybody who enters Maul-Hall – that says, “You are not only welcome here, but let us be your guides into a deeper measure of peace, a more complete sense of purpose, and an approach to passionate living that comes from the very heart of God.”

Because we love (not only our grands, but everything about this life) – DEREK