Eight years
09/02/19 05:38
Eight years ago, according to my journal, it was cold and snowy. I didn’t record the temperature on February 9, but on February 8, it was -8 with four or five inches of new snow. I had officiated at a funeral on February 7 and the snow made just getting to the church a challenge for some drivers. We have reliable all-wheel drive vehicles and rarely have a problem. I remember staying at the cemetery after the committal service while the cemetery workers completed their tasks and being glad to get back into the warmth of the car afterward. On February 9, I wrote about a herd of domestic buffalo that were being fed by a county sheriff while court action was being taken agains the owner for animal abuse. I have to go back and read my journal to remember the day.
I don’t have any problem remembering February 9, 2011, however. My journal entry the next day is the first of what now is a series of letters written to grandchildren. Our first grandchild was born eight years ago today. In that letter I mentioned the fact that it would take years before reading and writing became skills that he would possess. Those years have passed. He is quite a reader these days. We still read to him whenever we get the opportunity, but he now reads to us as well. He has discovered the joy of words and Last night when we were talking with him over FaceTime he was listing his favorite books of the year.
One of the things I wrote in that journal entry was, “You will only know us as old people. Our family doesn’t cram its generations very closely together. That is of no worry to us because being old is not a bad thing.” I also wrote, “In time our family will have others of your generation. You are the first grandchild for all of your grandparents, but we have a sense that there will be more.” I was right with that prediction. He now has two sisters and we are all eagerly awaiting the birth of a cousin for him this July.
One of the things that amazes me is how quickly the eight years have passed from my perspective. It isn’t quick from his point of view. It has taken a lifetime to get to be an eight year old who can read and write and ride a bicycle and build with Lego bricks. It has taken a lifetime to get to this point. But for us, the time has passed very quickly.
Eight years is the amount of time that it took me to earn my undergraduate and graduate degrees. Four years of college and four years of theological seminary. When I finished I had learned to think in terms of four years. After my first four years as a pastor, I got the itch to move on. It was only the strength of the relationships in that small town and a bit of good fortune on my part that kept me from moving to another church at that point. Most of my seminary classmates were into their second call after four years. We remained seven, but not eight. Our second call lasted for ten years. There was a time in my life when eight years seemed like a very substantial amount of time.
Our perspective changes. Still, in some matters eight years can seem like a significant amount of time. two terms in the office of the president can seem like a long time if the person who occupies the office isn’t the one you wanted to see elected. In South Dakota eight years is the maximum amount of time one can serve as governor. Well, there was an exception, but that particular governor was exceptional in a lot of ways. I suppose that eight years in a job that you didn’t enjoy would seem like a terribly long time, though I’ve been blessed to have work that I enjoy for all of my life. Well, a summer spent tipping garbage cans into the back of a truck wasn’t the most fun, but it wasn’t a bad time either. It made me glad to go back to school in the fall.
When our grandson was born eight years ago, we had to wait eleven days before we got on the airline to go to meet him face-to-face for the first time. Those days seemed like a long time to us then. Time doesn’t always pass at the same pace from our perspective.
Looking back eight years is also an opportunity to look ahead eight years. In eight years, our grandson will be eying his driver’s license. He’ll be a teenager and have a teenage sister. The schedule in their home will be substantially different than it is today. And we will be eight years older. I doubt, however, that we will seem much older to our grandchildren. I think that my observation in our grandson’s birth letter was accurate. We will always seem to him to be old people. He was born in the season of saying good bye to our parents’ generation. My mother had just died when he was born and Susan’s father, the last of our parents, lived only a couple of months longer. We experienced the passing of the generations in a dramatic way that year.
Today is a great day of celebration. And it isn’t just because the new Lego movie was released in theaters yesterday, which it was as our grandson has informed us. Eight years of amazing parenting by our son and his wife are worth noting. Eight years of growing in wisdom and stature, to use the language the Gospel uses to describe Jesus childhood. Eight years of learning to live in a family that has quite a tangle of extended relatives is an accomplishment. And there is so much that is yet to unfold.
For us it has been eight years of joy and surprise and wonder. The next eight promise to be as rich and these have been.
I don’t have any problem remembering February 9, 2011, however. My journal entry the next day is the first of what now is a series of letters written to grandchildren. Our first grandchild was born eight years ago today. In that letter I mentioned the fact that it would take years before reading and writing became skills that he would possess. Those years have passed. He is quite a reader these days. We still read to him whenever we get the opportunity, but he now reads to us as well. He has discovered the joy of words and Last night when we were talking with him over FaceTime he was listing his favorite books of the year.
One of the things I wrote in that journal entry was, “You will only know us as old people. Our family doesn’t cram its generations very closely together. That is of no worry to us because being old is not a bad thing.” I also wrote, “In time our family will have others of your generation. You are the first grandchild for all of your grandparents, but we have a sense that there will be more.” I was right with that prediction. He now has two sisters and we are all eagerly awaiting the birth of a cousin for him this July.
One of the things that amazes me is how quickly the eight years have passed from my perspective. It isn’t quick from his point of view. It has taken a lifetime to get to be an eight year old who can read and write and ride a bicycle and build with Lego bricks. It has taken a lifetime to get to this point. But for us, the time has passed very quickly.
Eight years is the amount of time that it took me to earn my undergraduate and graduate degrees. Four years of college and four years of theological seminary. When I finished I had learned to think in terms of four years. After my first four years as a pastor, I got the itch to move on. It was only the strength of the relationships in that small town and a bit of good fortune on my part that kept me from moving to another church at that point. Most of my seminary classmates were into their second call after four years. We remained seven, but not eight. Our second call lasted for ten years. There was a time in my life when eight years seemed like a very substantial amount of time.
Our perspective changes. Still, in some matters eight years can seem like a significant amount of time. two terms in the office of the president can seem like a long time if the person who occupies the office isn’t the one you wanted to see elected. In South Dakota eight years is the maximum amount of time one can serve as governor. Well, there was an exception, but that particular governor was exceptional in a lot of ways. I suppose that eight years in a job that you didn’t enjoy would seem like a terribly long time, though I’ve been blessed to have work that I enjoy for all of my life. Well, a summer spent tipping garbage cans into the back of a truck wasn’t the most fun, but it wasn’t a bad time either. It made me glad to go back to school in the fall.
When our grandson was born eight years ago, we had to wait eleven days before we got on the airline to go to meet him face-to-face for the first time. Those days seemed like a long time to us then. Time doesn’t always pass at the same pace from our perspective.
Looking back eight years is also an opportunity to look ahead eight years. In eight years, our grandson will be eying his driver’s license. He’ll be a teenager and have a teenage sister. The schedule in their home will be substantially different than it is today. And we will be eight years older. I doubt, however, that we will seem much older to our grandchildren. I think that my observation in our grandson’s birth letter was accurate. We will always seem to him to be old people. He was born in the season of saying good bye to our parents’ generation. My mother had just died when he was born and Susan’s father, the last of our parents, lived only a couple of months longer. We experienced the passing of the generations in a dramatic way that year.
Today is a great day of celebration. And it isn’t just because the new Lego movie was released in theaters yesterday, which it was as our grandson has informed us. Eight years of amazing parenting by our son and his wife are worth noting. Eight years of growing in wisdom and stature, to use the language the Gospel uses to describe Jesus childhood. Eight years of learning to live in a family that has quite a tangle of extended relatives is an accomplishment. And there is so much that is yet to unfold.
For us it has been eight years of joy and surprise and wonder. The next eight promise to be as rich and these have been.