Still in their respective mothers’ wombs when cancer took her life, these were the first two of the five grandchildren who didn’t get to meet our sweet Grandma Ruth.
Offspring of Ruth’s younger sons, Ryan was due first but took his time arriving so Lindsey is older by a few weeks. Out of the fifteen of us they are the closest in age. They’ve always been cousins, classmates, friends. There is divine provision in this. It is if God said I know it’s hard to be a child who never gets to meet a grandma in this life, but you have each other.
Last week all of us cousins watched Lindsey promise to love and cherish her new husband Zach. One of us, a pastor, wed them. Since then Ryan has proposed to his Lauren.
There are no new words for the gift of God’s hand moving with us through time, day by ordinary day, recognized mostly by us mortals only in retrospect. There is only the resounding echo of the psalmist’s assurance: His faithfulness continues through all generations (Psalm 100).