I wet the washcloth with cold water, wrung it out, and wiped my granddaughter’s forehead, praying all the while.  A raging fever, throbbing headache, and sore throat – none of these were in our slumber party plans. We had capped off a game-playing movie-watching evening with a little pampering at our homemade spa and turned in for a long winter’s nap. By midnight Carlisle was standing by my bed.

“Keggie, I don’t feel so good.”

It’d been hours now since I’d given her some medicine to try and bring her fever down, and it seemed to be climbing higher instead. I wanted to know just how high, but my digital thermometer was dead.  Note to self, pick up an old-fashioned thermometer. All I knew was Carlisle’s skin was warming the cold rag as quickly as I could dip it and wring it, and I was officially worried. Should I call and wake her parents? Dip, wring, soothe, repeat.

When Carlisle’s eyelids finally grew heavier, I stretched out beside her, lowered my voice and continued praying under my breath. I was dozing off myself with more prayer words on my lips, when it came. The words didn’t feel like mine, but they carried a holy recognizable weight.

“I’m not an orphan. You’re not indifferent.”

The words startled me because they were in first person, and although I hadn’t voiced them, they revealed the fear behind my urgent prayers. They soothed me because I knew God was offering me the way forward. He was with us. I’ve walked with Him long enough to know what to do next.

I began to own those words with an intentional prayer.

Carlisle’s skin beneath my touch was as hot as it had been moments before, but peace began to stand guard over my heart as I repeated the words, “I’m not an orphan. You’re not indifferent.”  Though it was hours before her fever broke, fear and doubt lost their grip in God’s Presence.

I was still processing that prayer the next morning. I wanted my granddaughter to know what had happened in my heart during the night. We were snuggling on the couch when I waded into the discussion.

“This may be too much for you to understand,” I said to Carlisle. “But, have you ever totally believed in God until something started happening that you wanted Him to stop and when He didn’t, you began to doubt that He was listening, even though you didn’t want to feel that way?”

To my surprise, Carlisle shook her blond head with enthusiastic agreement. “Yes’m! That happened to me when Weston was sick.”

Would you lean in here and look at God’s great big heart? Carlisle had worried about her little brother recently the same way I had worried about her last night, and our God knew it.

I told Carlisle how God had reminded me that He was a good Father, even when I couldn’t understand what was happening. Together we found a Scripture verse we could stand on to remember the lesson.

Then we took our water paints and a couple canvases and created some artwork to help us remember what God wants all of us know.

We are not orphans. He is not indifferent. 

I can’t explain the mysteries of God’s timing to a child when I don’t understand them myself.  I can’t tell her why the Word tells us to pray about all things at all times when those prayers aren’t all answered in the way we’d like for them to be.

I can tell her we were created for another world where pain will no longer touch us, by a God who loved us so much He was willing to come and share it, to make a way for us to live with Him forever.

This is the truth we can all give our grandchildren.

Do you have a story of how you’ve brought up seemingly complex things about faith with your grandchildren, and were surprised when they understood more than you expected? We’d love to hear from you.

I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you.  John 14:18