As The Sparks Fly Upward

but man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. – Job 5:7

Nonnie, asks my grandson, Why did Molly die?

Molly, our Golden Retriever, passed away one year ago.

Well, sweetie, she died because she was very old.

He considers.

I don’t want to get old. I don’t want to die.

This conversation has been replayed many times when he is at our house for an overnight. Our routine is buttoned up: dinner, bath, brush teeth, playtime, reading, prayers, sleep. (Please, just one more book, Nonnie? A symphony to my ears.)

I keep this routine unchanged, given the chaos in our world today. Our grandson knows the sequence, recites it aloud, and smiles, comforted by what is to come.

With hair still damp—all slicked back—he jumps into bed, smelling of soap.

Nonnie, I miss Molly.

His lip quivers.

Me too, I say.

I fold back the cool sheets and smooth the comforter.

I’m not scared of fireworks, he says, studying my face.

Is that so? I kiss his forehead, recollecting last year’s college football game, complete with fireworks.

Blasts that left him sobbing.

They are loud, but I am big now, like Daddy.

Yes, you are so big!

He pauses.

Well, sometimes I’m scared.

I nod.

It’s okay, I say. Jesus is with us.

He hugs my neck, reaches for his stuffed animal, and closes his eyes.

As I hum Jesus Loves Me, he drifts off.

And then, his eyes pop open.

Nonnie, if Jesus is here, why can’t I see him?

So I explain. In under ten minutes, we have covered much ground.

***

Some day, I will tell him how we are born to trouble. Sin, suffering, and sorrow abound, creating all those sparks that fly upward.

But those conversations must be preceded with a sturdy foundation: doses of love, undivided attention, spoonfuls of understanding, gentle truths spoken over and over again.

Playing Legos and trucks and I Spy and Go Fish with wild abandon, riding bikes and watching Little Bear, sharing fat ice cream cones with sprinkles.

Keeping him company, cradling his heart, while humming Jesus Loves Me as he falls asleep.

He will soon turn four, and I am 49 years his senior. Old enough to sense the brevity of life and to see the kindness of God in giving me time. Moments to love well, by pointing our grandson to Jesus, as the sparks fly upward.