DOWN HOME: Panorama of life in just a few weeks

This young year has yanked our family up and down the stairs that scale the stages of life.

In early January, our daughter Lindsay’s father-in-law and our friend, Gary, lost his valiant battle with cancer. Fifty-six is far too young to die. And so, while God’s grace is sufficient for every occasion of suffering, and we know disease no longer ravages Gary’s body, and he is at home with the Lord, we still have grieved. Our hearts particularly have broken for his devoted and delightful wife, Linda, and the rest of his family.

Gary’s death took on an added dimension with the birth of his grandson—and ours—Ezra two weeks and two days later. We prayed Gary would live to see this much-anticipated child. Then we hoped Ezra would arrive six days early, on what would have been Gary’s 57th birthday. But babies follow their own natal timetables, and Ezra arrived a few days later.

Of course, Ezra’s birth became the most joyful occasion in a long, long time in a family that has experienced more than our share of happiness. Joanna and I adapted to grandparenthood as soon as Ezra took his first great gulp of air and let out a wail trumpeting at least one truth: Our lives never will be quite the same.

Before, I never adequately anticipated the exact emotion of being a grandfather. But now, I find myself unusually distracted, thinking about the little fellow, praying for his growth and safety (as well as his mama’s and daddy’s tired-to-the-bone sanity) and longing to hold him to my chest. Jo and I are counting on great times to come.

Next, we shouted with glee when our buddy Brent finished chemo. He’s endured an arduous journey, and now he’s facing cutting-edge surgery to transform a piece of his small intestine into a new bladder. Who says miracles don’t exist? God guides doctors to perform them every day.

Then we spent multiple weekends helping Jo’s dad, Jim, downsize, get ready and move from his longtime apartment in a senior adult community into an assisted-living facility. We expected many of the emotions connected with yet another step away from independence. But I don’t think Jo and her sisters, Julia and Janis, and I counted on how much this would make us miss their mom, Margie, who went to be with the Lord almost four years ago. We found her in the dishes and mementos we disbursed among our family. And I heard her in the poignant laughter of her darling daughters.

And now, we’re looking toward April and a family reunion to celebrate my grandmother’s 100th birthday. Grammar would have traded some of her birthdays with Gary if that could have enabled him to spend a few years watching his grandkids grow. But she trusts God’s sovereignty and has persevered for a century of springtimes. We’ll sing and help her blow out candles. And I’ll be wondering what God will do with Ezra, who could blow out 100 candles in 2111.