In all of the activity of the last week, I didn't share the exciting news that my Michelle is a first time grandmother. Last Tuesday, I was able to see my precious, oldest friend and her husband, Paul, look at their child's child with wonder and pure joy. Their most treasured titles now are Big Poppy and Sis.

Michelle and I lost our dads, four months apart, and, without the other knowing, we each had decided to use what our daddies called us as our grandmother names. When she told me she was going to be Sis, I told her I was hoping to be a Punkin, one day. We both had the same idea to take a little piece of our daddies with us to love on the next generation that they'd never meet. Here on earth, at least.


Michelle's son and daughter-in-law live here in town and I was getting text updates from the expectant grandmother throughout the looooong labor. Finally, I got word that he'd been born on Tuesday night and I headed up to the hospital, the next day, to see the sweet bundle of joy. They were just down the hall from where the rooster and I had "given birth" just a few weeks earlier. I told the proud, new dad that it seemed like just yesterday when Michelle was calling me at work from Orlando to tell me that he'd been born. I knew when I said it that it sounded like one of those things that your grandmother used to say, but, apparently, I'm getting into that age bracket now, so it's all good, I guess. Time's pace has really picked up as of late.

They say grandkids are the best thing ever. I've been told this time and time again by my friends, who've crossed over into the land of grandparenthood and I've tried to imagine what it would be like to hold my child's child, but, because I haven't experienced it, I just can't fully grasp all of its glorious splendor. There are some places so wonderful that imagination just can't take you there. Paul shared a picture with me of Michelle wiping tears as she held their grandson for the first time. After all of those years of being like me....trying to imagine what it would be like....she'd finally experienced the magnitude of a grandmother's love and it was obviously more than her heart could hold.

My Daddy described it as watching someone you love more than anything holding someone they love more than anything. The love just multiplies. From that description, I always kind of looked at it like layers of love. The love gets richer and more wonderful as its depth grows.

Here in the South, we know about the importance of layers. And the more layers, the better. We love our chocolate trifles. A good banana pudding. Our homemade lasagna. Our mile high wedding cakes. We love to sink into a bed covered in layers of blankets and quilts on a cold night. We, southern women, recognize how vital a good, layered haircut is. We enjoy layering our shirts, sweaters, vests, scarves, and jackets in the winter months. We know that one layer of anything is ok, but if you keep piling it on, well, it just gets better and better. Love is like that, too, I suppose.  

But, from our chairs situated in front of our televisions, sometimes, it can seem that the world is hopelessly tiered with hate. We might even feel like any measure of love that we could possibly dispense, no matter how great, would just be cancelled out.....all of its good collapsing under the weight of the hatred that can seem almost palpable. We might start to think that love is just outpaced and understaffed, sometimes.
Whether it's a family layering generation upon generation. Teachers teaching kids who grow to be teachers who teach kids. Someone who is told the gospel who goes and tells someone else of the hope of Jesus. A mentor for someone needing a positive influence in her life, who turns to mentor someone else in return. There are a million ways in which love is layered. Countless ways it grows deeper and becomes firmly established.

God sees that the batons of love and salvation continue to be passed along down the line. I think that's why He hasn't given up on this world yet. The generations to come are depending on us to keep it moving. And He's counting on us to keep layering up.


Congratulations to Sis and Big Poppy!