What’s it like to be a Granddad? What’s it like to hold those new grandsons? How does it feel to have grandchildren? How does it feel to be a Granddad?

Well, I would tell you. If I could.

How does it feel to be incredibly, undeservedly blessed by God? What’s it like to watch your daughter’s face explode with unconditional love and unabashed joy as she locks eyes with her own babies? How does it feel to hold a precious baby boy who only lives because your wife forgave you and loved you and married you and said “Yes” to you a million times when you did nothing to merit any of it? What’s it like to marvel at the miracle(s) in your hands, this gift from God’s hand, as a personal experience of his love and faithfulness and grace? How does it feel?

I don’t know how to talk or write about it, other than in terms of a fullness of heart and soul, a fullness of life. A swelling of gratitude and thanksgiving, a completeness of joy and contentment, so full I could just bust wide open into a laughing, weeping, smiling, delirious mess.

How do you describe those moments when that little baby’s eyes are looking right into mine and I tell him how much I love him? How do you explain the feeling of being with your beloved daughter and her husband, in their house, taking care of those newborn twins together? Experiencing all of the emotions and hormones and questions, moving suddenly from overwhelmed to confident and back again during one diaper-changing. Being with their great friends from their great church and that little community of faith that is taking care of them so faithfully. Watching Valerie gush and coo over these boys. Watching David feed the boys at 2am, knowing how mentally and physically exhausted he is while studying for next week’s bar exam. Realizing how perfectly healthy Elliott and Samuel are and how every prayer you’ve ever prayed for your daughter and her husband and these boys is being answered right in front of your eyes by a loving God who loves them even more than I do. Feeling a massive hole in my soul knowing I’m not going to be with those boys today. Or tomorrow. Or for the next few weeks. A deep longing to be with them, to hold them, to speak to them, to feed them, and love them. And knowing that hole didn’t even exist fourteen days ago.

How do you describe all that?

I can show you pictures. And, get ready, I probably will show you more than you would ever want. But I don’t know how to articulate how this all feels. It’s an indescribable fullness of gratitude and humility and praise.

Peace,

Allan