The Lord Told Me…
So I’m helping Grandpa on with his sweater this morning when he says, “The Lord told me it was Monday.”
Jill: “No Dad, it’s Sunday.”
Grandpa: “Well, the Lord told me it was Monday.”
Eric interjected jokingly from the hallway: “Well, it could be Satan, Grandpa.”
Grandpa didn’t hear him…
I thought to myself, next time he has any hair-brained ideas that he wants me to do for him, and tells me the Lord told him to do so, I’m gonna say: “Remember, Dad, the Lord told you it was Monday when it was really Sunday.”
The Patriarch of the Family
Grandpa: “I’m not going to say the dinner prayers anymore. The Lord told me the head of the house is supposed to say them.”
Robert: “Well, I still want you to say them.”
Grandpa: “Well, I don’t want to say them anymore. You’re the head of the household.”
Robert: “Well, I still want you to say them!”
Me: “You are the head of the house dad. You’re the oldest one here. I want you to say them, too.”
Argument begins to escalate here. Voices rise. Grandpa and Robert exchange orders…”Yes you are!” “No, I’m not!” “Yes you are!” “No I’m not!”
Me: “Dad, why do you have to always change things. We’ve been doing it this way for a long time. You need to do what you can do for the family.”
Eric: “You’re the patriarch, Grandpa. You should say them.”
Grandpa: “That’s not the head of the family. The Lord told me, the head of the family is supposed to say the prayers.”
Me: “Let’s take a vote. Who wants Grandpa to still say the prayers.” Everyone raises their hands, except Grandpa.
Eric: “I don’t know Grandpa. I don’t think God would tell you to stop praying (in other words, could it be SATAN? Sometimes the enemy pinches Grandpa when things have been going along too peacefully).”
Robert: “You can eat in your room until you decide to say the prayers.”
Me in Grandpa’s bedroom trying to reason with him (why do I bother?): “Actually Grandpa, we have two heads of the family. You’re the head of my side, and Robert is the head of the children’s side (I wasn’t born the middle child for nothing, ya know).”
I can see Grandpa’s wheels turning with the thought of two heads to the household, even if one of them is technically 92 going on 6:
Grandpa: “Well, that’s one way to look at it.”
Maybe I’ve made an inroad to the brain inside the head with the hoary gray hair (I say that in all due respect).
Me: “I don’t have any more energy for you, Grandpa.”
Eric continues to minister to Grandpa by trying to get him to eat. I wonder why he isn’t hungry anymore?
I go back to the dinner table and finish my soup and sandwich. I can’t even taste it, giving credence to the Bible verse: “Better a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting, with strife.” Proverbs 17:1.
Life’s Crosses
The crosses of the present moment always bring their own special grace and consequent comfort with them; we see the hand of God in them when it is laid upon us. But the crosses of anxious foreboding are seen out of the dispensation of God; we see them without grace to bear them; we see them indeed through a faithless spirit which banishes grace. So, everything in them is bitter and unendurable; all seems dark and helpless. Let us throw self aside; no more self-interest, and then God’s will, unfolding every moment in everything, will console us also every moment for all that He shall do around us, or within us, for our discipline.
Francois De La Mothefenelon
Twitter, Really Now
So Grandpa asks me at dinner, “What is Twitter?”
I was really taken aback.
“Where did you hear about that?” I asked.
I just sat there, a bit stunned. I was just telling the family this morning, I can barely keep up with this guy. His aspirations are a lot more than I can handle.
I think he needs a full time secretary.
This is why his computer is not connected to the Internet.
Can you imagine?
I told him, “I don’t even do Twitter!”
