I have a couple ten-year-olds just to make sure no train of thought lasts too long. Scripture records Jesus's habit of often withdrawing to lonely places to pray. That sounds profoundly attractive to a busy parent. Ten-year-olds make sure that doesn't happen, either. You pray out loud on the spot all the time with prayers that begin, 'Oh my God!? What..." In the several times I've been interrupted while writing this paragraph, I've learned what happens to a PB&J sandwich when you roll it up tight, what happens to a bagged loaf of bread when you don't, and how many times a kid can click their tongue against the roof of their mouth while loudly humming out of tune before I completely lose track of my reason for being alive today.
My wife and I recently took a few days off in the White Mountains of our home state of Arizona to celebrate our 25th anniversary. When the nearly forgotten privilege of doing what we want when we want was finally upon us, we were so out of our element that we sat motionless in near perfect silence for hours every day just waiting for interruptions that never happened. It was glorious. Oh. Right.... we were also surrounded by beautiful scenery. But, WOW, you should have heard that silence.
When Grandma Carolyn answered her door after our four days away, the smile on her face was as strained as the ten-year-old voice still trying to hum that high note from the hiding place behind the living room sofa. With his own disconcerting grin, Grandpa Steve looked up unmoved from his recliner like he had lost the battle three days ago and knew his reason for being alive today wasn't coming back to him until our car was out of the driveway and he could watch what he really wanted to. I truly love these people. They even paid us in cookies and soda for the privilege of having the children... or was that getting even?
Time flies. Time parenting flies faster. The idea is that in a few days when our children are grown and shouting spontaneous prayers about their own ten-year-olds, my wife and I will be in Steve and Carolyn's shoes. We'll celebrate the moment the parents are out of sight and we can party with grandkids like it's the end of the world. Then we'll feign good-humored annoyance when their parents return so they won't suspect things went too smoothly without them. And of course, we'll repay them with cookies, soda and bad ideas in their children's heads to make sure they drive their parents crazy enough to return them often. Turns out that's a pretty good reason to be alive today.
