Hasting to Heaven

I read a worthwhile piece in the Wall Street Journal the other day: “My Aging Mother Has Moved In. It’s Complicated” with the synopsis: “In her first moments here, I worried we had made a mistake. But there is something comforting about seeing her sipping wine on my porch” by Katie Roiphe (Aug. 7, 2025).

Whether it’s getting rid of cancer-causing dyes in our sweets or going back to the healthy oils or the ritualistic joys and healthy benefits of canning our own vegetables — it’s amazing how stupid we have let ourselves become. Taking care of loved ones, when we can, as opposed to moving them to a nursing home, is a similar issue.

This fact, as well as how generations encourage one another, is on my mind today. How often have our kids talked about the inter-generational aspect of our church. Generations worshipping together mirrors the Kingdom and encourages all. And it’s such a joy to see how our parents can encourage our kids like no one else can. A talk with Baba and Booie can encourage like nothing else can; Nana and Pappy can make them laugh and remind them of fun times in a heartbeat. Visiting our grandbaby with my Mom and Dad brought immediate smiles to their two-month-old greatgrand babygirl with my Mom’s high-pitched oo-ing and ah-ing over her very being. Sharing a cheeseburger encouraged their granddaughter that day to no end.

But just as wonderful is how the younger generations encourage us. It makes me think of how our youngest sprinkles her stories and texts — constantly — with booms, oofs, slaps, boofs, wait whas, lols, brehs, and no buenos. (The best thing is when I have my car audio lady read her texts aloud to me when I’m driving…) She really does make us laugh out loud.

Roiphe’s daughter reacted just like ours — she saved the day and made her grandmother beam. Nothing like these kids to break the tension and remind us of what’s important.

On the morning [my mom] moved in, she and I were both a bundle of nerves. A few glaring problems seemed insurmountable. Her walker wouldn’t fit through the doorway of the bathroom. The bed was too high for her to safely get on and off by herself. “Oh, I am fine,” she said as she struggled to get onto it. But she wasn’t fine.
An older woman using a walker, assisted by a younger person.
I felt a kind of birds-in-my-ribcage panic. Were we making a giant mistake?
In theory I like the idea of a big crazy household, the young and the old jostling together, three-generation family dinners, but would it be OK in practice?
Many of my friends seemed a little shocked that we are doing this. I imagine another culture, in India say or Italy, where generations crowd together into a single household. This seems strange only here where nuclear families are supposed to splinter off and live in isolated bubbles.
My daughter took a video of my mother’s first, slightly terrified ride up the stair lift we installed so she could reach our part of the house. “Hey, girl,” my daughter called out, and my mom beamed at her. For the first time that day, I thought maybe this will work.

“Hey girl!” … “for the first time that day…”

Just before the Lord’s Prayer, the Bidding Prayer (BCP 1928) ends with:

Finally, ye shall yield unto God most high praise and hearty thanks for the wonderful grace and virtue declared in all his saints, who have been the choice vessels of his grace and the lights of the world in their several generations; and pray unto God, that we may have grace to direct our lives after their good examples; that, this life ended, we may be made partakers with them of the glorious resurrection, and the life everlasting.

The several generations and their good examples…

“[…] that, as we grow in age, we may grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.”