Taking time to create our own masterpieces

Ian is our sixth-grade grand guy from a Minneapolis suburb, here for a few days. He was not excited about a solo plane flight to come see us on his fall break. Not that he didn't want to be around his grandparents — he is his grandpa's right hand man in the garage — but he didn't know about such a risky unknown.

I sent him a text — urging him to try something new, be successful in it, and that would give him confidence for the next new thing. Sounds good — but I myself am not that good at it.

Ian went for it — arriving last Saturday in Spokane. Quite a lot has happened since then. He found out Frank's Diner makes a burger that stretches the imagination — and the stomach.

Of our YouTube recipe flop he declared we'd “created a masterpiece.” The Oreo Cookie four ingredient cake most definitely did not look like the tidy rectangular shape it should. We think it was the zero fat milk we used that turned it into pudding. You needed a spoon to eat it, but it was delicious.

Being the last ones still watching the “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” movie credits at the Roxy in Newport, that stage with the big screen lit up and the music blasting was too tempting. Ian climbed up there and did a funny little dance shuffle. What could have been more in tune with a movie about making a leap, trying something new — which includes a song called, “Rip Up the Recipe.”

And those screenwriters hadn't even tasted our Oreo pudding flub-that-flew.

We were headed for church Sunday morning — a destination not usually on Ian's radar. His phone stayed home — a grandma coup. An interesting thing happened. Terry, not feeling well, changed his mind at the last minute so Ian and I went. I could tell something was off on the drive there, so I asked.

Turns out he felt genuinely worried about his grandpa. He said, “Right, so we go to church and praise Jesus and the Holy Spirit and that stuff but what if we come home and find a dead body?”

Well, that was something to consider. I turned around halfway there, and we came home — to a living, breathing person. One who was glad to have our company — to the relief of a young grand man.

I had a chance to tell Ian about the “voice of the Holy Spirit.” How He speaks into our lives to guide us. About His voice being so much more than just our own thoughts. How I'd listened to that voice when I tried to find out what was bothering him. We had a good Ian and grandma “church.” None of it would have happened had he been on his phone.

Today we got stranded when the alternator in the SUV gave out. That changed the day's plans — but Ian got to learn about alternators. He could have stayed home in Minnesota suburbia this week — on his phone. Instead he ripped up the recipe, added a few surprise ingredients, and “created a masterpiece.”