Salt and pepper...

As I see it…
I’ve traded in a salt and pepper beard for salt and pepper grandkids. After all, the beard had long since made the slide to abundant saltiness a long time ago; it simply time to admit it. We have five grandchildren to date: three the old fashioned and conventional way, and two by way of adoption (well, almost…bureaucracy is still very much in the mix of things). Three kids are Anglo-American and a slightly bronzed-white flavor. Two are of Haitian decent, quite brown, born in the Dominican Republic and being raised by a transplanted Hoosier mom who now is very much a Lone Star State refugee. This vibrant amalgam got together this past weekend for a celebration of God’s faithfulness. We invited a few guests, added a few relatives, spiced it with some neighbors and mixed it all together with a congregational stock that produced a pretty decent celebratory stew! You see, the twins were separated almost immediately at birth, one left to fend for himself and the other carted off without the rest of the world knowing he existed. Through a series of Divine interventions, the twin left to defend for himself, was soiled, sickly and dehydrated when he was rescued and revived. He was later deposited with our daughter and asked if she would care for him. The other twin was introduced into the mixture a while later when their mom decided she would walk away from both of them. The separated duo was now a renewed pair and life continued to improve immensely for both of them: physically, socially and spiritually. Meanwhile, they had three cousins enjoying the goodness of God several hundred miles to the north of the twin’s Caribbean habitat. Through another series of Divine interventions, God brought the twins and their adopted mom from the Dominican to the States. This last weekend they ALL invaded our little place in the woods. And voila, we had controlled pandemonium. As a bit of disclaimer, neither of the grandparents minded the pandemonium one bit. The cousins played, laughed and wrestled with granddad until either he or they collapsed from exhaustion (I’ll leave it to the reader to pick which succumbed first). The whole noisy and excited occasion left me with a multitude of thoughts. One of them (just one, mind you!) was could this little cross-cultural yet unified family mêlée be a foretaste of the multitudes from every tribe, tongue and nation that will ultimately inhabit heaven. But until then, we will continue to celebrate God’s microcosm of faithfulness here on earth until the great event occurs in heaven!