MAY UPDATE

Granddaughter Lydie taught me a lesson in meditation this week. She is but 3 years old. And yet, somehow, the lesson was profound. It was May 27, a Wednesday, but no ordinary Wednesday. Lydie's baby brother was born that morning, and she was now and would forever be a big sister. ​

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We were headed to the hospital to meet this little brother, much anticipated and loved, but not fully a reality to any of us till we held him in our arms and gazed into his beautiful tiny face. He had come. Truman Jay was now among us, one of us, and he was here to stay. The implications of such an arrival are a lot for a grownup mind to grapple with. How would a 3 year old be able to assimilate such a momentous appearance?

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It was on the way home that the lesson was held out to my heart. It is one I will not soon forget.

Though Lou (5) and Lydie had just spent an extended time with their momma and daddy and baby brother, their hearts were still longing for them and for the promised completeness of their family. I think it was Lou that first voiced it. Maybe once, or perhaps twice: " I want to see Truman!" But Lydie's heart and mind locked in to the thought, and would not let it go. Our simple dismissal of the exclamation by telling them we had just come from seeing Truman, and that he would surely come home tomorrow with mommy and daddy was apparently not satisfactory.

 

Lydie had already picked up the theme. Somehow it seemed to resonate with all that she was feeling inside. In a quiet voice, almost under her breath, she began to say: "I want to see Truuman", "I want to see Truuman" over and over again. Almost like a chant. "I want to see Truuman"... The drive was an hour long. Out of the city, over the plains, up the pass. "I want to see Truuman!'...

 

It's almost as though she was tasting the words, savoring them, assimilating them. Taking them in. Letting them sink deep. Truman was a new word for her. 'Little brother" and "big sister" were abstract realities that had to be grappled with. Digested. "I want to see Truuman"... In quiet repetition, putting voice to concept, and speaking it out loud, something sacred was transpiring there in the back seat of the car. Something beautiful was being unfolded and pressed into a 3 year old's heart.

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Ah, Lord, teach me to meditate daily on your Word. To speak it quietly, longingly, persistently, even aloud, until its Truths permeate all that I am. Until it sinks deep, so deep that I am forever changed, Forever Yours.​​​​​​