The Gift of Time
If someone were to ask me to name one of my goals in life, one of them would be this: that my grandchildren, long after I’m gone, would look back on memories of me as their Nana and smile. Not because of grand trips or big events, but because of the small, simple moments that turned into big memories for them.
A couple of times a year, we load up the bicycles and head to one of the parks on Steinhagen Lake. My husband unloads us at the entrance to the park, and then he drives deeper in. The grandkids and I pedal together through the twists and turns, over bridges, and past the tall trees until, in the distance, we spot him sitting at a picnic table or in a lawn chair, reading a book.
By the time we arrive, I’m winded and laughing, but it’s always worth it. We unpack our boxed lunches and share sandwiches and smiles. The kids race off to the playground, and I watch them—sunlight in their hair, laughter echoing through the trees. For them, it’s just another day, but to me, it’s everything. And the sweetest part? When one of them turns to me and says, “This is the best day, Nana,” or “Can we do this again sometime?” Those little words fill my heart to overflowing.
I think that’s how God feels when I spend a little time with Him. When I set aside the busyness of life and just show up—not to ask for anything, not to fix anything, but simply to be with Him. Those quiet moments of fellowship, those simple prayers or walks where I talk to Him like a friend, must make His heart smile.
Just as I love hearing my grandchild say, “Can we do this again sometime?” I imagine God loves when I come back, day after day, wanting to spend time with Him again. It doesn’t take something big or elaborate—it just takes being present.
“The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” — Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)
We often think of faith as something grand and holy, but maybe it’s simpler than we make it. Maybe it’s the steady, joyful rhythm of spending time with the One who delights in us—just like a loving Father, or a Nana who treasures every “best day” she gets.
