Tell me a story of when you were a little girl

Last week, we were delightfully invaded by our oldest daughter and her family which includes our two oldest grandchildren, two year old Howard and three year old Maggie.  Their visit was marked by the usual treks to the zoo, the city, and the little diner in our village where the food is delivered not by a waitress, but by a model train that runs a circuit through the restaurant.  Chicken nuggets never tasted so good.

One pre-dawn morning when Maggie woke up early, she had breakfast with me and waved goodbye as her dad and grandfather left for work.  We made a loaf of bread together, baked some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and talked with her aunt and baby cousin in Nashville. I looked at the clock.  It was 7.30.  Our day had only begun.

One of Maggie's favorite things is hearing stories about the olden days when I was young. Bedtime is ALWAYS marked by "Gramma, tell me a story about when you were a little girl."  Her mom and dad can spot a delay tactic a mile away, but I see an opportunity.

There are many stories I can (and have) told her about our lost dogs and my adventure at the circus.  But there is also the treasure trove of stories of God's faithfulness to me through all these many years, stories of how God pulled me through some narrow squeaks, stories of His Presence, stories that show this little girl that God is true and God is real.

It is my responsibility to tell her so that she too will set her hope in God.  It is my delight.  I know that at any age there are many things a child will forget.  But of all the things she remembers, let the stories of His faithfulness be engraved in her heart.

I will sing of Your steadfast love,
   O LORD, for ever;
with my mouth I will proclaim
          Your faithfulness
  to all generations.

                              Psalm 89.1