If my Journal is looking a little neglected lately, that’s only because it has been. I’ve become completely absorbed in a different pastime — staring adoringly at the newest member of my family, my new grandson. I have become one of those insane grandmothers who fills her purse with snapshots and accosts strangers at the post office. Or the grocery store. Or Walmart. Or anywhere I’m given half a chance to whip them out and shove them under some unsuspecting victim’s nose.

Now, this baby isn’t my first grandchild. My husband has two sons, and they’ve produced five wonderful grandchildren, which my husband has gracously shared with me. Some live far away from us, and others are within easy driving distance. Each one is special in their own way.

Dominic Fredrick is my first contribution to our family’s new generation. He was born on July 31, three weeks early. He still weighed in at 7 pounds 5.6 ounces, and measured 20 inches long. A big, handsome, perfectly formed little baby who immediately captured his Nana’s heart. I had the incredible privilege of being in the delivery room, of seeing his emergence into this world, of hearing that first precious cry. Nothing could ever prepare me for the onslaught of feelings that erupted in my heart at that moment.

What is it about a grandchild that stirs up such a depth of feelings? A friend told me it’s because the aroma of heaven still clings to them. There might be something to that. A brand new baby is completely untainted by anything ugly in the world. He is a reminder of new life, and fresh starts, and unlimited possibility. He’s the biggest blessing God will ever place in our hands, and the most awesome responsibility with which He will ever entrust us.

Lord, bless our children. Help us to nurture as You nurture us. To teach as You teach us. To love unconditionally, as You love us.