PAPA : The Grand-Factor

The Grand-Factor

     In last month's blogs, I attempted to tickle taste buds for Larry Crabb's book The PAPA Prayer (the right sidebar contains links to August's PAPA blogs). Now, I cautiously approach The PAPA Prayer's step #1 and search for ways to warm readers into its significance. To some, it may seem like aimlessly talking to walls, learning a foreign language, or an awkward dance.

 

     In Step #1, PRĒSENT, the goal is to become vulnerable and brutally honest with yourself and with God. To help grasp this idea, it is important to take a temporary detour. In a recent Today Show segment, a Boston College study shares intriguing findings that I label, The Grand-Factor. Their research concludes that: "Grandparents and adult grandchildren who are close are both less likely to be depressed." The positive effect is mutual, for the grandparent and the young adult.

     A grandparent helps the young adult to have a link to someone who has "been there & done that; survived; and come out on the other end." Active, surviving grandparent(s) who give back rather than just being cared for benefit from the relationship. Accept grandma's family china set when she offers it; show grandma or grandpa your resume.

     In the movie The Vow (based on a true story), the Grand-Factor is absent, but would have been beneficial. A traumatic head injury leaves young Newlywed Paige with no remembrance of Husband Leo. Her parents, sister, and high school buddies remain distinctly in Paige's memory banks, except for one critical and pivotal piece of family history. Five years previously, her dad's humiliating affair, with Paige's high school buddy, propelled her to sever all ties with family, as well as any law aspirations... and pursue her creative side.

     If anyone needed the Grand-Factor, didn't devastated Paige as an older teen? To have a caring, loving, and close idyllic "Grandparent Walton" with whom to openly PRESENT... her anger, sadness, and tearful humiliation? She needed someone connected, yet balanced... to simply listen and nod his or her head as Paige shares: Doesn't Dad know how humiliated I feel? All of my friends know! How could he do this? I HATE him!! It offends me that Mom stays with him!!!!!!!!

     After a prolonged, brutally honest conversation, an endearingly familiar "game" would begin, for Paige to absorb a special Grand-Factor commitment: Did you know that I love you, Paige?... more than... chocolate-covered strawberries?

     In turn, Paige may have warmly responded with her favorite childhood retort: "You are the best. I love you... more than... apple pie!"

     Hopefully this idea of the Grand-Factor sets the stage for The PAPA Prayer's Step #1: PRĒSENT yourself. In this step, it is critical to openly present ourselves (hurts or questions, happy events or offenses, insecurities or worries... intriguing scarab scars, artistic tattoos, ugly warts, and all) lest Steps #2-4 be sabotaged or short-circuited. Crabb says that any and all prayer requests should be saved for Step #4.

     If it feels uncomfortable to pray like this, or if it takes a huge leap to feel genuine (talking to the four walls), simply say: Lord Jesus, I can't do this. My mind is racing and actually I'm uncomfortable and feel quite bored. Help me to be real with You and God.

      In the New Testament and today, we have a special link to Someone who has "been-there." It is Jesus, God's approachable Son. Our perfect Savior Jesus is the only avenue to the Holy Father (John 3:16).

     For the informative 4-minute Today Show Grand-Factor segment, click this link: http://www.today.com/health/grandparents-grandkids-can-protect-each-others-mental-health-6C10898312

Stretch What's Tight; Strengthen What's Weak

     I continue to reflect on this past sabbatical year and the invaluable stretching and strengthening of my emotions and spirit. I compare it to grueling training, like preparing for a marathon. I have stretched... my meager writing skills, penning a therapeutic, heritage-investigating Memoir and then strengthened that information through blogs. 

     Many tears were shed... some were guilt-ridden, wishing I had been a better mother and daughter; some were joyful gratitude-filled tears, for undeserved mercy extended to this adult child of an alcoholic; others were just plain weary tears.

     Patience and perseverance STRENGTHEN me, and I see this most annoying revelation tied to decision-making: In many situations there is actually more than one "right" option. Grunt! Groan! Oomph! and argh! In other words, I lack omniscient powers. I will try to not sweat... the small stuff anyway. I will carefully choose my sweating battles. Happy day!

    To interact positively with family and others, patience and flexibility s-t-r-e-t-c-h my kindness quotient. I actually aspire to give more than I get, with no expectations in return; but, why are those muscles for "extra-giving" so tight? It feels like I am performing the (muscle-tearing) Chinese splits.

    I reflect on yesterday's heartwarming activity--interacting with my, too tremendous, 2-year-old. We are all anxiously counting the days before the birth of his brother. Last night's treasured opportunity helped to pass time, and for me, did not disappoint. Mom and Dad enjoyed together a rare, dinner-&-movie-out night, and I (DeDe) babysat. This aspiring blogger now forever captures last night's close encounter moment.

     It is a busy and long day for the little guy, with just one 20-minute cat nap in the car. By 6:00 p.m. his eyelids are like lead weights, succumbing to brief, eye-closure kitty naps. He heroically fights committing to the early, sissy bedtime. Mom and Dad can no longer delay their movie-departure and say hesitant "goodbyes," making our little guy's tears flow freely. I gently share, "I know you're sad. It's sad when Mommy and Daddy leave."

    He sucks up his tears and bravely distracts himself, watching TVs Daniel the Tiger. With his back to me, I patiently wait for

the opportune time and avenue to enter his adorable, play-filled world. We end up experiencing the backyard, playing in the sandbox and throwing balls. He then overturns a large, deep-crevice rock to uncover a "holy cow" buried treasure. A zillion frightened roly-polies scatter for their lowly lives.

     How do I convince this over-tired little guy to head upstairs to relax for sleep? Grandma is supposed to be the gullible spoiler rather than the edgy enforcer. I opt for the stretching approach, using patient flexibility. After a short time, no convincing is needed, because shock of all shocks, he initiates the long climb to his bedroom. I turn out the lights, sit in his memory-filled rocker, and talk about the busy day, with his special world of colorful balls, Daniel the Tiger, petting zoo pigs, ducks and horses, and family dog Brodie. 

     Maybe he is bored listening to my quiet chatter, because the next thing I know he climbs up, nestles his back into my welcoming lap, and closes his weary eyelids. Gentle muscle and face twitches begin as, shock of all shocks and faster than the speed of light, he replays an uncharacteristic behavior I have blogged about before; falling asleep in my lap, this time with no delay. 

     This long-distance grandma is strengthened and ready... to seize an eternal opportunity. I wistfully longed for this grandson-stilled, close-encounter moment. I figuratively bow to my knees and pray, for my daughter's oh so special and energetic 2.5-year-old. I pray for Jesus to guide and protect him... and ask for my grandson's mind and heart to grow to love His Savior God, the Creator of roly-polies.

     Tear puddles form in my eye sockets as I rehearse and re-experience yesterday's undeserved, unexpected (stretched, strengthened, and trained-for) grandchild moment. Prayer hasn't always been my natural response in good times. Throughout this past precious year, the Good-Times Prayer Station is one of the varied and grueling regimens for which I have trained.