I’ve been enjoying plenty of time for writing, here in southern California. Mornings, especially. Most days I spend a few hours working on content for late-winter conferences, workshops and a keynote, back in Minnesota. I’ve been journalling, too. The writing takes me in and out of Scripture, filling my thoughts with poetic metaphors and the words of Jesus. Prophetic joy and godly wisdom.
Most days I head out mid-morning for a brain-clearing run. Temps perfect for an easy jog on a nature trail, or—after spotting a low-key coyote—sidewalks lining bougie homes. We’re getting so much exercise here, considering it’s winter. California “chilly” is Minnesota perfect and an ocean walk is minutes away. Yesterday Kyle had the idea to explore a place called “1000 Steps Beach” which was amazing, but his knee hurt when he tried to sleep.
Of course, Quoia is here, too. Our scrumptious grandson, and the main reason for our visit. We’ve seen him, along with his Mommy and Daddy, nearly every day. My daughter-in-law said in a text “It’s a good thing we enjoy spending time together…” Quite true, considering the in-laws are minutes away, settled in for a month.
Baby Quoia recognizes his Nana, which is joy. joy. joy. I can feel his eyes locked on me, and when I return the gaze, that precious little face erupts in a smile. I can hardly look away. We’ve had a couple of afternoons to ourselves while Mama works, and we’ve found our rhythm. Playtime, snuggle time, and a worship playlist for napping together. When we first arrived, our little guy was under the weather, but you’d never have known it, he’s so content.
I try not to think about leaving. Mostly I try not to worry about how long it will be before we see them again. How big Quoia will be. Six months next week…
I don’t blame them. My son and his wife. For all the naysaying about California politics and wildfires and the cost of living, you’d only need to spend a few days here in the middle of winter to understand why a person would want to stay. When it’s 60 and sunny and you’re looking at an ocean on one side, mountains on the other… and you’ve got friends and church and people to love you. It’s not hard to see why they’d stay. So we’ll see.
I was chatting with Quoia earlier this week, when it was just him and me. I was telling him about the upsides of coming back with his parents to Minnesota. We talked about cousins nearby. Baby Lola, nearly his age. Bo, a bit older, who could show him the ropes—teach him hockey. Uncles and aunties who always miss him. Great-grands, too.
And I said, “I don’t know Quoia. It would sure be nice to have you closer. But spending a few weeks here during the worst of winter is awfully nice, too.”
God will lead them, and they will listen. My son and his wife. Nils and Brina are amazing people. Their faith is real and their love is authentic and they are deeply rooted in kingdom soil. Wherever they are. And they’ll listen.
So, for the next few weeks we won’t worry about tomorrow; we’ll just enjoy today. We’ll play and laugh and sing and snuggle. I’ll learn to play Catan, and I’ll be the weak link on the pickleball court. We’ll eat dinner together, and go to church on Sundays, and watch sports on TV. Take our walks on the beach.
And I’ll wake each morning and drink my coffee and listen to birds singing California praises. Doing my best to live like them...
Consider the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add one moment to his life span by worrying?
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:26-27 & 33-34
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