Just some early morning thoughts from me to you…
“Special and rare are those who can see the potential in the child standing before them without having to see its fulfillment—but those who do see the potential are the builders of the promise of the next generation.” Anonymous
It’s been my experience that moments similar to those of this past weekend usually come to an end. And this weekend was no exception. And so the last three days in the mountains with my Bride and our younger Granddaughter Ellie Kate ended yesterday with hugs, kisses, prayers of thanksgiving, and for safe travel and protection, and for other prayer concerns for family and friends.
Or at least I thought that’s how our time would end as I got ready to return home leaving Lynda and Ellie Kate in that rarified air. But as I opened the door to the car to leave I heard a tiny voice calling from the porch:
As I turned, I watched to see my precious five-year-old bounding down the stairs from the porch. And then I watched as she ran across a stretch of our driveway to jump into my arms and nestle her head on my shoulder and hug me goodbye as if to never let me go. Or so I wished it were the case.
Just another moment along the journey of her life and the promise of a generation.
Somewhere on the highway during the rest of yesterday afternoon and shortly after that moment, as I was headed down the mountain, I knew that my elder Granddaughter Hannah was passing me on her way up to the mountain house with her Mom and Dad. She turned eleven a week or so ago, and it was beginning to look as if she was going to continue to get older with each passing day. I would miss her on this trip—but cling to the hope that tradition would continue as she and her Mimi and I had never missed a year together in the mountains.
As I drove on my thoughts drifted to that day eleven years ago when Hannah was first introduced to us and the rest of the world.
I’m not sure why I felt the urging at that particular moment that morning she was born to take the elevator down two floors to the labor and delivery area of the hospital—it may have has something to do with my energy level. But leaving the sterile and boring environment of the waiting-room area, minutes later I found myself standing outside the electric doors which prevented admittance to the delivery rooms by anyone other than medical personnel or parents.
Unbelievably, Grandparents waiting to meet their first grandchild were not on the list of those who were welcome in that area. Unless, that is, someone just happened along, entering or leaving, and causing the doors to miraculously open and allow someone like me—as a new Grandparent—to step through into the sacred sanctum of the of the labor and delivery hallway—just a few rooms down from where my Granddaughter, Hannah, was making her way into the world—eleven years ago.
I had left the waiting room to be closer to where she was to be born and to pray specifically for her, and for her mom and dad—so pray I did. Maybe proximity helped the divine connection. And as it turned out, I was praying in that off-limits hallway at the very moment our precious Hannah was being delivered. The time was 12:33 pm on July 9, 1999, and it was the beginning of an era of untold blessings for Lynda and me and so many others with eyes to see and ears to hear.
As I held her in my arms for the first time later that day, eleven years ago, I realized that her precious life was another beginning of the promise of a generation.
You have them in your life—children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, those children of family and friends. As you see them standing, running or jumping before you, or hear their voice at play or calling from the porch—what do you see and what do you hear?
Are you one of those special and rare souls who sees and hears all the potential within them? Do you see the promise of a generation in each life before you? Do you hear the voice of someone whom God has created to make a difference in this world?
“Special and rare are those who can see the potential in the child standing before them without having to see its fulfillment—but those who do see the potential are the builders of the promise of the next generation.”
The world needs—the children of the world need—those who will hold them in their arms and pray for the fulfillment of all their potential—for the fulfillment of the promise of a generation. The world needs—and the children of the world need—parents, grandparents and others who care, who will use God’s wisdom—rather than the wisdom of the world or popular culture—to make decisions for their lives.
When I hold my two precious Granddaughters in my arms and embrace them in my heart I pray that God’s plan for their lives will be fulfilled as He planned it to be. I pray that God will continue to grow them into all He created them to be. I pray that all the promise of a generation will be fulfilled in their lives.
Together that is what you and I need to do for our children—everywhere.
In His Name—Scott