Dream a Little Dream

Dear Grandchildren,

I may, of course, be too old to remember that I have written this by the time you are old enough to read this. My memory, no doubt, won't be what it is. If this letter should reach you, as I pray it will, you ought to know that it is being written on the day after your grandmother turned 39. I know it must be hard for you to imagine that she was once 39, but it is true nonetheless. Of course maybe it isn't such a hard thing to believe. Her glory then, as now, is indeed in her youth, that she exhibits the faith of a child.

How she manifest this is a lesson I don't want you to miss. I pray your parents remember to tell it as they teach you the wonders of God's grace, as they tell you our family story. You see, only eight days ago, my wife, your grandmother, finished her treatments for cancer. She endured not only the diagnosis, but surgery, not only surgery but four months of chemotherapy, not only chemotherapy but six weeks of radiation therapy. Many were amazed that she could manage all this while managing our house, while homeschooling our children, even while overseeing the building of a new house. She was, as always, a trooper indeed, though we must remember to give thanks for the help we received along the way (a lesson your paternal grandmother may have finally learned). Your grandmother behaved like a diligent, mature, hardworking grown-up through the process. Better still, she believed like a little girl, like a child of God. My counsel to her every step was simple enough. I told her, "Now is the time for us to believe what we have always believed."

Certainly I wanted her, as I want for you, to believe that God is sovereign, that He not only isn't surprised by cancer, but that He sent it. Isn't it funny that we manage to turn the sovereignty of God into such cold, hard doctrine, when it is the grand teddy-bear of doctrines? Of course I likewise wanted her to believe something that is sometimes hard to believe, that this challenge was sent for her well-being. And isn't that a marvelous little dance that God does? Sickness would not exist did not sin exist, and He sends the sickness to cure the sin. He is Lord of the Dance indeed.

All of this I wanted her to believe. But there is one more lesson that undergirds, highlights, and empowers the others. What I wanted your grandmother to believe is just what I want to you believe—that God loves you. You know, of course, that your mommy and daddy, that all your grandparents love you very much. And you know this because you are children. You have probably given the hard work they do in and for you precious little thought. You are probably mostly unaware of the time we all spend in prayer for you, far less the truth that we all have been praying for you before you even existed. You don't collect evidence of our love and then conclude that we aren't liars after all. Instead, when we look you in the eye, smile down upon your smile and tell you, "I love you child" like a child, you know it to be true.

Your granny did just that. She slept like a baby, precisely because she believed like a baby, because she rested in her Father's arms. She didn't trust in His love because He promised her a candy-filled life. She trusted in His love because these two thing define Him. He is love, and He is trustworthy. Because she believed this, she glorified both her earthly and heavenly heads and husbands. Because she did this, she set an example for you. This is why I married this woman.

Your granny and I are growing old. And praise be to His name we are growing young. For as grand as your grandmother's faith was in the face of that challenge, it better today reflects the glory that it will be when He calls her home. Growing older, you see, is the process of growing younger. The more we see of God's grace the more we believe in God's grace. The more we believe God's grace, the more we are His children.

Which is why, oh my precious children, that I write these words to you. When we are gone, we will still love you. When we are gone we will still storm heaven for you. But when we are gone we will fully and finally believed that heaven hears us. We will know then what we proclaim now, that your heavenly Father loves you.

What is it that we pray? We do not pray that you will do mighty deeds. We do not pray that you will become great men and women of God. Instead we pray for you what we continue to pray for ourselves, that you will become little children, that you will have the faith to dream little dreams. And we pray that you would in turn pray this same prayer, not for your tired old grandparents, but for your fresh and future grandchildren. May it ever be said of the Sprouls—there is a family made up of children, from generation to generation. There is a family that believes God. There is a family that believes that God loves them.

Little children, like our bodies, the grass will wither. Like our eyes, the flowers will fade. But it is the word of the Lord that endures forever. Cling to that word, believe that word, and you have already finished the race, you have already won the prize, you have already fought the good fight. This is a trustworthy saying, that all that He says, all that He promises, is trustworthy. And He has promised to be to us our God and Father, to love us with and everlasting love. Believe Him, and live.

With All My Love, For All His Love,

Your Grandfather