Buba

It takes a special type of grown-up to ascend to a the wavelength of a child. Tapping into that frequency requires attention, curiosity, and bravery. Growing up, my grandma was lightning quick to adopt every creative whim. She even let us name her — Buba. It didn’t matter that it was a first, clumsy, yet eager attempt at “Grandma”. She never corrected it. She agreed. She was Buba.

Buba embarked on our frivolous fantasies with business-like enthusiasm. For most children who have this profound privilege, there is nothing more relished than the undivided adoration of grandparents. It’s a heavenly demonstration of God's delight in us. And Buba truly delighted in us. She was a hearth fire.

She didn’t have joy. She didn’t have grit. She had Jesus. And by Him, she had all of these things. We glimpsed her life, in her stories. Who she was before and after Jesus. And the way in which He satisfied her so much that she even savored, as though it were the wellspring of life, the salad dressing at the bottom of the bowl.

"I can do all things through Christ who give me strength " Phillipians 4:13 -- Buba's favorite verse