Talk about grand entrances. Our newest grandguy decided to make his five weeks early in the middle of a pandemic. I just wonder what he has up his sleeve next.

As far as births go, this one was definitely different. The threat of COVID-19 colored everything, from who got to meet the new little fellow (that would be no one) to jokes about a possible name. “Have you considered Cory(ona)?”

The hardest part was the isolation aspect, meaning the new parents had to do the hospital scene alone. No visitors to sweat it out in the waiting room. No chance to watch the three big sisters ooh and ahh at the nursery window. At least our son could come and go from the building at first, but things changed on Day 4 of their hospital stay. KDMC completely pulled their welcome mats. Quarantine on the second floor. 

So Son No. 2 and his wife holed up in an overflow room, getting hospital trays at mealtimes and making round-the-clock treks to the NICU. The wonder of FaceTime allowed them to show us Little Man’s progress.   

Meanwhile, life was happening. We had two students home for spring break. Three little girls to keep alive. Parents to check on.

Toilet paper to procure.

Saturday morning I beat a linebacker-looking guy to Walmart’s last package, a pricey 12-pack of Northern mega rolls. While I was laying claim to this prize, my competitor had the gall to mention he’d seen nary a square between there and Natchez. I felt a little bad about that.

I felt a little bad another day as well. Son No. 3 did, too. Some sort of stomach bug hit us and hit us hard.

So we added that layer to the story, as well as a birthday, setting up a new phone, and a newly-required vehicle hunt. That’s in addition to all the regular stuff involved with keeping grandchildren occupied, things like peeling play dough off your jute rug and trying to teach them to finish the edges of a jigsaw puzzle first. The good thing about cooking meals for eight is you don’t have time to read many headlines — You know, this kind.

“4 COVID-19 deaths inside same Burlington (Vermont) nursing home”

“Pandemic to smash the U.S. GDP Growth Rate”

“Vanderbilt hospital sets up COVID-19 treatment area in parking garage”

“This virus just has the whole kit and caboodle”

That last catchy one comes straight from a USA Today pasteup. It describes symptoms of the coronavirus, but it could just as well describe its reach. This threat has touched the whole kit and caboodle of our lives.   

And that’s why worship words I heard livestreamed Sunday morning are the kind to take hold of and take heart in. They focused on a Baptist confession written in 1689 for people who knew a thing or two about plagues and famines and fires that destroy whole cities. No wishy-washy God talk back then. With Scripture to back them up, the confessors proclaimed God as a “good Creator” who doth “uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures and things.” All things. In a modern translation, that would have to include COVID-19.    

I choose to hang my hat and hope on that.

So, Little James, welcome to the quaranteam and to the world, with all its close calls and hopes of a stimulus package and runs on Lysol.  It’s a bit topsy-turvy now, but God has a way of making all things right. And when He does, it will be for believers’ good and His glory. You can count on that.

Kim Henderson is a freelance writer. Contact her at kimhenderson319@gmail.com. Follow her on twitter at @kimhenderson319.