John and I had the pleasure of meeting our newest grandchild. After the twins had taken off from JFK, but before they had actually walked on Spanish and French soil, we headed west. We had an audio book primed and ready to engage with on my phone, as well as directions provided by Siri, and as it happened a number of calls with our kids. Hence my device was far busier than I was as a mere passenger. Admittedly I still fetched snacks and drinks from the cooler. 

 

Meeting Isaac was a good reason to drive six hundred miles. The funny thing is, he won't remember us. Being still a mostly soporific human being, he was oblivious to me gazing at his face, or his grandpa pushing the stroller around the neighborhood that will be the backdrop of his childhood. I saw a smattering of trampolines, bikes, porch swings, gardens with red tomatoes, and front doors with wooden signs announcing "Home". Everyone we passed said hello, even a little boy barely off training wheels. Isaac missed these details, and yet this is how it goes with relationships that are predetermined as precious even before they begin.  

 

The book we listened to en route is about compassion. We sometimes paused  to chat about what it reminded us of, such as passages by Swedenborg. I noticed trees beside the turnpike that jetted out directly from a vertical cliff, then sprung upwards toward the sky. It felt like an apt representation of how we humans can emerge from rocky circumstances with a fierce determination to rise up. We stretch for heaven not because it is the obvious choice, but from an inborn hunger for goodness. Concise aspirations were articulated by the author,  like "Whatever you meet is the path", and "Be grateful to everyone."

 

When the need for an update on navigation arose, I appreciated the willingness of the book text to pause, so that we could find our way among a tangle of choices. Then if we seemed recalibrated to the satisfaction of GPS, the reader started back up. It all reminded me of God, and the way he volleys between inspiration and actual direction. We need both, it seems. 

 

Plus that relationship, too, is predetermined as precious before it begins.