I was mowing the lawn while two of my grandkids were playing in the street. My six-year-old grandson was riding his scooter, and his teenage sister was riding her longboard.

As I was finishing the front lawn, I had the leaf blower in my hand.

I looked at the leaf blower. I looked at my grandson.

I looked at the leaf blower. I looked at my grandson.

I looked at the leaf blower. I looked at my grandson.

Yes. I thought through this at least three times.

I did what any grandfather would do. I started chasing him around the driveway, blowing him with the leaf blower. He was laughing hysterically, trying to get away from me, and riding his scooter all over the driveway.

It was amazing. I was bonding with my grandchild. It was fun until it wasn’t. As they say, “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.” As he was trying to get away from me, he started riding too fast, couldn’t control the speed, wiped out, and started crying. At once, I put down the leaf blower, picked him up, and tried to comfort him.

Right at that point, with impeccable timing, my wife Carrie showed up, and he said something like, “This is all grandpa’s fault.”

I had to admit, “Yes, I did this.”

She took him in to comfort him and get him ready for bed because it was late in the evening.

Later that evening, after all the excitement had settled down, we met up in the living room. And he showed me that he had used… not one… not two… but three Band-Aids. And, that it had drawn “actual blood.”

He said, “Don’t ever do that again.” And I had to apologize and tell him that I would NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER chase him around the yard again with the leaf blower.

My six-year-old grandson was upset with me, and his teenage sister was acting like a typical sibling, laughing hysterically because there was “actual blood.” By the way, “actual blood” became the new catchword of that visit.

My point?

There are times when life feels like it draws “real blood.”  I’m not writing a book. But if I were, this entry would be the prologue. These are my stories of how my Heavenly Parents and Christ have helped, comforted, taught, and given me the peace to deal with those “real blood” situations. These are my stories where God showed up in my life.

The artwork is called “Treasured Rays” and is used by permission from Eva Koleva Timothy