Last March, I received a very special birthday gift. All of my children showed up to celebrate, traveling from Houston, Ft. Myers, and Charlotte and North Atlanta. My son handed me a birthday card, and when I opened it, my mouth fell open and I was “in-total-shock-speechless.”
A preacher doesn’t often find himself speechless. The card read “Happy birthday, Granddaddy!” and included a picture of their sonogram. Grandchild number three was on the way!
Fast-forward to October 17, Jonathan and Amanda’s due date. It came and went with no fanfare. So did October 18-25. Though my bags weren’t packed, we were on “baby watch” and ready to bolt to Charlotte.
It’d be a lot easier if the baby would give us an idea of when the grand entrance would take place. We went forward with our commitments. A conference in Alpharetta Monday and Tuesday, an important doctor’s appointment on Friday, preaching on Sunday, and, sadly, a funeral on Monday, all combined with my wife’s nurse’s schedule.
We learned that Amanda would be induced on Monday night, Oct. 26, but I got a text at 8:57 Sunday morning that contractions started Saturday night. I have to admit I was a little distracted the rest of the day. I preached Sunday morning, delegated my small group that met Sunday night, and prepared the funeral message.
Monday morning came with no baby, so I was able to preach the funeral and minister to that family before we left town about 6 p.m.
Throughout the pregnancy, Amanda and Jonathan avoided discovering the baby’s gender. That’s unusual these days, so not knowing contributed to the suspense.
As we were driving, our phones kept dinging with group texts. Jonathan’s three sisters were into the excitement. My oldest daughter challenged us to guess the gender and weight. I guessed boy at seven pounds, eight ounces.
My wife guessed boy at eight pounds. My oldest guessed girl at six pounds, ten ounces. My four-year-old granddaughter Harper guessed girl, with her parents weighing in at six pounds, seven ounces. Actually, Harper was determined it would be a girl cousin. My youngest guessed boy at seven pounds, 13 ounces.
We arrived at the hospital at around 11 p.m. and Amanda’s parents, Mark and Susan Cobb, pulled in at 11:30. And we waited … October 26 turned into October 27 … and Jonathan texted at 1:16 a.m. Baby is here!
Born at 1:03 a.m. That was the only detail we had until, at 2:30 a.m., Jonathan came out to announce “It’s a boy!” Cobb Lanier Chancey, seven pounds five ounces (I won the guesstimate), 21 inches long.
Cobb in honor of Amanda’s family, and Lanier, continuing four generations of son’s using that middle name on the Chancey side.
Our first grandson arrived October 27, just in time for the World Series and for the opening games of the new NBA season.
Jonathan told his sisters, “He’s the new favorite!”
There’s nothing like a grandbaby. Someone said, “Your own children are your investments, and your grandchildren are the sweet bundles of interest you have received upon maturity.”
Sam Levinson said, “The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent.”
Alex Hailey said, “Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.”
Mary H. Waldrop said, “Grandparents are God’s way of compensating us for growing old.”
I’m actually too young to have three grandchildren, but I’ll gladly take them and any more coming our way.
As Psalms 127:3 reads, “Children are a blessing from the Lord.” If children are the Lord’s rewards, then grandchildren are icing on the cake!
Dr. David L. Chancey is pastor, McDonough Road Baptist Church, Fayetteville, Georgia. The church family gathers at 352 McDonough Road, just past the department of drivers’ services building, and invites you to join them for Bible study at 9:45 a.m. and worship at 10:55 a.m. this Sunday. Visit them on the web at www.mcdonoughroad.organd like them on Facebook.
