“Grandma,” my very tall 11-year old grandson instructed patiently, “Put your fingers over the laces, like this.” We were having a lesson in how to throw a football.
“That’s right,” he said encouragingly. “But your pinky doesn’t need to be way out there. Keep your pinky closer to your other fingers. Like this.” I studied his eyes to see if he was making a little joke. He wasn’t. Those eyes, a little taller than mine, were quite earnest. So even though it amused me greatly to hear where to place my pinky on a football, my expression remained serious and attentive.
I resisted the impulse to gather him in a great hug and tell him how wonderful he is to honor me with football throwing instructions.
I am learning to bless these grandsons and nearly everybody who comes into my experience more consistently. By that I mean I am learning to pray better for and about them.
For instance a couple of weeks ago the two boys and I were having dinner, and they started provoking and insulting each other and paying no attention to anything I said to diffuse the escalating taunting.
I sat back and mentally withdrew from the verbal chaos to have a little listen with God. It was important to hear what She knew about these kids. Right there, right then, I could honor their goodness, their intelligence, their caring, their respectfulness -- qualities that seemed to be missing.
Suddenly it was quiet. The conversation changed, and that was the end of the nastiness.
The transformed atmosphere startled me into gratitude and an awareness that my thoughts, more than my words, were what mattered. They hadn’t heard my words, but they responded to recognition of their true nature as God knew them.
Just as that boy placed my fingers where they belonged to make a decent throw, so a loving God places each of us where we are intended to be a blessing. And She insists that we be that blessing.
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