Four Days, Two Grandchildren, and Enough Grace to Get Through It

When the Schedule Arrives Before the Grandchildren Do

It all began with a schedule — a glimpse into the remarkably busy lives of grandchildren Maddie, nearly 12, and William (Wil), nearly 10. Their parents, son Mikos and daughter-in-law Jenny, had business travel commitments in Hawaii, so Maddie and Wil came to stay for four days. A quiet prayer went up immediately — a request for special graces to get through the week — because Mike was also traveling and would not be around to help.

The Morning Routine: Braids, Lunches, and Off to School

Making breakfast for two extra people, packing lunches, braiding Maddie’s hair, and getting everyone out the door became the new morning rhythm. It also happened to be Election Day — and by evening, a new president would be announced. Maddie had play practice, which meant no pickup until 6:30 p.m., leaving the afternoon free.

Wil and the Vanilla Shake Revelation

After school, Wil and his grandmother bonded over vanilla shakes — and fries, for him. What came next was nothing short of astonishing. Without a single reminder, Wil sat down and opened his books. He did not come up for air until every assignment was finished. He never asked for help. And later that evening, when television beckoned, he declined — he had reading to do.

The question had to be asked: Did we pick up the wrong child? Was this actually the same grandchild?

I was also in charge of the mild mannered Rosie, my granddog. She is still in the puppy stages and needs a lot of TLC. She sheds, chews, and digs holes in the backyard, other than that she is a sweetheart.

Grace, Grandchildren, and the Chaos of Ordinary Life

Election Night Becomes a Party

After picking Maddie up from play practice, it was time to plan an impromptu election-night celebration. Two dear friends, Sarah and Dorothy, came over to watch the results unfold. The three had been in contact throughout the day, praying together for a favorable outcome — and by the time they arrived, there was already cause for cautious hope: Trump had taken an early lead. Still, the prayers did not stop.

The evening filled quickly. Each announcement of a new state brought fresh bursts of excitement — screaming, jumping, the kind of joy that doesn’t try to be dignified. Sarah’s husband Jason arrived with two of their daughters, and the family room became wonderfully chaotic: hyper adults, shrieking children, and the electric energy of a night no one would soon forget. By nine o’clock, the party had wound down — baths and homework, as it turns out, win every time, even over history in the making.

On Knees and Convictions

This election brought many to their knees — and sincerely so. The fervor in prayer was not simply about wanting one candidate to win. It was about the weight of what was at stake: the restoration of order, the appointment of Supreme Court justices, and above all, the right to life — issues that admit no compromise for a Christian conscience. These are the non-negotiables.

Honesty requires acknowledging that many Trump supporters kept quiet, put off by the harsh rhetoric, the name-calling, and the tone that sometimes made it hard to stand without embarrassment. But as Election Day drew closer, it became clear that silence was no longer an option. As a Christian, a stand had to be taken. Watching the hatred pour from both sides on social media only deepened the resolve to stay out of that particular fire. The great divide in this country is real — and healing it, not widening it, is the work worth doing.

To those who are unhappy with the outcome: the call is not to operate in hatred or fear, but to accept the result, pray for the man elected, and give him the opportunity to govern. That is not surrender — that is Christian citizenship.

The Car Ride Soundtrack

On the school-morning drive, the grandchildren have one request: their music. It has been some time since regular exposure to secular radio, and the shift is striking — far more risqué than before, with far too much sexual content woven into the lyrics. One song’s theme toggled between hatred and love in the most confusing way possible. The solution was simple: change the words. Loudly. “I love You, my Jesus — I love You.” The kids laughed. That is perfectly fine.

Grandparents and the Weight of Small Things

Grandparents carry many quiet responsibilities: teaching by example, praying without ceasing, and practicing patience — especially with the small things. And few things tested patience quite like the great bottle-flipping craze. The trend reportedly began in 2016 when a high school student landed a water bottle flip during a talent show, the clip went viral, and suddenly every school-aged child in America had a new obsession. Wil was no exception —

Screens, Prayers, and the Grace of Grandparenting

Monitoring Maddie

Maddie has been spending a good deal of time FaceTiming her friends — and as grandparents, the role is simply to monitor and follow the directives her parents have set. The rule is clear: one half hour of screen time, in a common area, in front of the rest of the family.

A Grandmother’s Daily Prayer

Grandchildren must be saturated in prayer — the guard must never come down. This is the daily prayer lifted up for them:

Dear Lord,

Watch over my grandchildren. Let no harm come upon them. Grant them safety, and give them the wisdom to do what is right. Help them in their studies, that they may always do their best. Make them kind and loving, and teach them to treat others with respect.

Dear Lord, keep them from any life-threatening illness, and let no hand be raised against them to cause them harm in any way.

Into Your loving hands, they are entrusted.

Amen.

I’m Back — And the Journey Has Been Long

Where It Began: A Young Mind on Its Own Path

At eighteen years old, voter registration was made as a Democrat. Then, in the twenties, the Peace and Freedom Party took hold — a young, pliable mind eagerly absorbing ideologies that felt like liberation. The ideas ran deep, branching out and taking root. It was a mind with God pushed to the shadows, charting its own course.

Looking back, it is clear now what was not clear then: there was a gift to influence others, and it was being used to plant seeds of toxic ideology that had already taken hold from within. Women’s rights — and all the agenda that came with it — felt like the whole truth. No one was going to dictate the terms of that life. Self was at the center. The views settled in comfortably, and they held sway. There was anger underneath it all — though the source of it was never quite clear.

“There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” — Proverbs 14:12 (cf. Proverbs 16:25)

The Republican Party: The Enemy, or So It Seemed

As far as the world was concerned at the time, the Republican Party was the enemy — a party that hated minorities and existed only for the wealthy. That view was not an isolated one. The entire family were registered Democrats; the thinking moved in one direction, shared and unquestioned. It was the same manna, laced with relativism, passed from one generation to the next.

There was a portrait of President Kennedy hanging in the living room — a kind of household icon. He was the family’s ideal. Our mother loved him and taught the children to respect and honor the Commander in Chief. President Kennedy will always hold a special place in the heart.

Mothers Do Know Best

Our mother was, until her final days, a political force in her own quiet way — always exercising her right to vote. That lesson was instilled in all of her children and has never been forgotten. She was a patriot. She always rooted for the underdog. Her dedication to making her voice heard was something to be honored — and it still is

The Transition

When Two Worlds Collide

Imagine moving from the Peace and Freedom Party directly into life as a Born-Again Christian — and eventually into the Catholic Church. That is precisely the journey taken. It was a paradox, and two powerful forces collided head-on. Only one could win.

During those formative years at Biola University, the Word of God was taking hold of the heart, and anger could no longer find a foothold surrounded by so much peace. The growth in belief surpassed everything else; nothing mattered more than pleasing God. Life was finally on track. This gradual, gentle transformation brought a new way of seeing — understanding the meaning of life, the purpose behind one’s very existence, and recognizing that God Himself had chosen Mike as a helpmate, all part of a divine plan. As the will was surrendered to God, the mind began to mature and grasp what was truly expected of a faithful Christian.

President Trump

A Vote Cast with Purpose

A vote was cast for this man because it was clear he would make changes. Not everyone will agree with the pace at which he has moved — but the reality is that he has only four years to address what has accumulated over many more. As always, the commitment remains the same: to pray that God guides President Trump in every decision.

Immigration

A Prayer for the Stranger

There is a genuine and sincere prayer held for all undocumented immigrants who have lived in this country for years — those who are law-abiding, God-fearing, and good people. A humane system that offers them a legitimate path to citizenship is not only reasonable but necessary. At the same time, a real question deserves an honest answer: Why are protesters flying the flags of other nations? It is difficult to imagine that approach helping the cause — and it is reasonable to suspect that many of these demonstrations are organized by American citizens rather than by undocumented individuals themselves. Regardless of where one stands politically, immigration must be handled with humanity, order, and justice.

What Scripture Says

Matthew 3:12 (NABRE): “His winnowing fan is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

The discrimination between the good and the bad is compared to the procedure by which a farmer separates wheat and chaff. The winnowing fan was a forklike shovel with which the threshed wheat was thrown into the air. The kernels fell to the ground; the light chaff, blown off by the wind, was gathered and burned up.

It is a powerful image — and an honest one. A nation, like a threshing floor, cannot simply absorb everything without discernment. There are many American citizens in genuine need; it is not unjust to insist that those who come do so through a lawful and orderly process. The solution is not cruelty — it is clarity. And the work of finding that balance belongs to those who were elected to do exactly that. May they be held to it.