Love, joy and kindness — and a little bit of sledding

Today is her birthday (somewhere above 80) — and the other grandmother to our daughter's kids posted a hilarious video of herself, wearing a parka and attempting to slide down a rather bumpy hill sitting on a piece of folded cardboard.   

She pushed more snow with her boots than she slid. Her granddaughter was in the background yelling, “Pick up your feet!” She hollered back, “I can't!  But I'm sure plowing a good road for you guys.” 

Eventually she had to pump her feet to gain any forward motion. The person filming said, “This is how the elderly sled. You look like an inchworm coming down the hill.” I burst out laughing because that is what she did, indeed, look like. 

She finally good-naturedly gave up and rolled off the cardboard. Her dog was there making sure she was none the worse for her attempt to replay childhood. 

Light-hearted as it was, this grandmother's casual remark tossed into the frigid air — Minnesota in February, trying to topple zero — struck a familiar feel. “I'm sure plowing a good road for you guys.” The children, the grandchildren — the ones who come after. 

You can see it in the video. How she was digging through the snow — packing a path. The young grand in the pink knit hat and jacket, standing at the top of the run, was going to zoom down that hill. Her grandma's effort had smoothed the way. 

What does it take to “plow a good road” for the generations? For me, being a follower of Jesus, I want to share His life and message with them. That God is with us — He never fails or forsakes — He's got the answers for our past, present, and future. That our identity is in our creator. 

I want the ones behind me to know where I went wrong — and why — and what I learned from it. How I was forgiven every time by the one who matters — and granted a fresh start. I'd like them to understand how much of life is choices — that God has granted us the power to choose — and we can enhance or hinder our life in the choices we make. 

I'd like them to see love and joy and kindness in me — how these attributes can light a dark place. And how keeping a sense of wonder makes everything new. I want them to learn gratitude — to understand grateful living is the secret weapon that vanquishes despair.  

I seek to plow a path of endurance when sorrow and hardship hit — as they surely will. To not quit on relationships — on dreams — on myself — on God. To stay honest.   

Each generation has its own sledding hill. But if I keep faithfully inching along — plowing a good road — maybe those who come after will know an exhilarating run.