You can listen to this week’s Devotional here
Author: Scott Allman
Everyone who has read the title of this devotional assumes it is about the grandparent helping the granddaughter through a bedtime ritual and into sleep. More on that later.
‘Train children in the right way, and when old, they will not stray.” Proverbs 22:6 (NRSV).
Trust me when I say that Eleanor will not be awake from the time she is plopped in her crib this evening until her freshman year in high school. Every night and usually in the afternoon she goes to sleep. Count on it. Her sleep will happen. Tonight is no different.
What gets us from here to there?
Being the adults in this dance we have options. We do not have power over everything and that is a blessing. Whenever you are in a power struggle with a child you always lose. God knows this and sometimes applies it to us. Whenever you are in a power struggle with God you also lose.
When angst is on my doorstep, before letting her in, I recall Jim Knopf’s advice: “Don’t get frustrated, get clever.” Clever is now added to the dance. The winning choreography combines various amounts of: Clever, Joy, Unconditional Love, and a minor Urgency to get this show on the road.
She is tired. Sleep is her friend. Does she want to sweetly lie down, say goodnight to Oma and Opa, close her eyes, and board the train to Morningtown? Rarely. I can’t remember the last time that happened,
Of course, she knows the bedtime dance. Her bath is done, changed into a clean diaper, pajamas picked out, those pajamas now worn, sleep sack on, and stories are read while sitting in a loving and warm lap.
Her job is to complete the checklist, like any pilot before heading down the runway:
Cuddly soft cow? Check.
Pink water bottle? Check.
Blanket? Check.
Grandparent nearby? Check.
Onward. As a child learning her boundaries, she is supposed to ask for more stories. Oma says, “No more stores, Eleanor.” Check. Standing upright in her crib, she does a small dance of rage. Again, Oma says, “No. Eleanor, it is time to lay down and go to sleep.”
Then Opa takes over and he asks the million-dollar question. “Eleanor, are you asleep?” She replies in her baby-talk, “Yes.” Opa then sings some of the songs he sang thirty-some years ago to Eleanor’s Momma. After a few minutes, in the darkness of the bedroom, he asks again. “Eleanor, are you asleep?” After a slight pause, she responds, “Yes.” Opa is running out of his singing repertoire. He sings every one of Peter Paul and Mary’s Greatest Hits that he can remember. His voice is low and monotonous because that makes the little ones drowsy and because that is naturally all he can do. Again, he asks, “Eleanor, are you asleep?”.
No reply. He slowly raises his old and tired body, quietly shuffles toward the door hoping to not trip on any books, stuffed animals, and most of all those electronic kiddo tablets. Even if you only slightly nudge these plastic landmines they will launch into a raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday to You.” Please, not now.
Safely through the bedroom door he walks down the hall after enjoying another night’s dance with a granddaughter. To himself he thinks: “Tonight’s sacred ritual is now done. Eleanor, we wish you a healthy and happy life. May you grow, accept wisdom, and get in a few good laughs with God.”
Eleanor, for her part, is asleep.