When a Child Asks to Be Seen: A Message to Grandparents

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This topic is potentially a tender topic for some of my readers. As we walk through this topic, I want to invite you to honor your own boundaries. Sometimes, God invites us to step into difficult spaces, but sometimes He invites us to step into safe, professional care. If this conversation feels overwhelming rather than enlightening, I strongly encourage you to speak with a therapist or counselor. I am just a fellow Christian sharing my story and writings, not a licensed professional, and I want to ensure you are safe and supported.

Privacy Note: For the protection of my grandson, I do not use my grandson’s real name in this letter. Although the stories and memories shared here are true, identifying details have been intentionally limited. This allows me to honor his privacy while still sharing the beauty, faith, and meaning of our journey together.

A Letter to The Gift of God

This letter began from a simple question from my grandson, “why isn’t there a story about me?”. I began to write, and it turned into a simple offering — a grandmother’s love poured out for her grandson, our family’s “Gift of God.” But as the words unfolded, it became something more. It became a testimony of God’s faithfulness across generations, a remembrance of the quiet miracles He has woven into our lives, and a blessing spoken over the child who changed my heart in ways I never expected.

It is now an open letter to my grandson, carrying a message for fellow grandparents — a gentle invitation to reflect, to hope, and to rediscover the sacred calling we share. And at the end, you will find a prayer offered for all grandchildren, preborn and born, for those who long to pray more intentionally and deeply for the generations entrusted to them.

May these words meet you with tenderness and stir something holy within you, reminding you — as they reminded me — that God multiplies even the smallest offerings placed in His hands.

Dear Grandson,

From the moment you arrived in this world — three months early, eyes wide open, crying out with a strength the doctors did not expect — you have been a reminder to me of how God gives gifts that surprise us, steady us, and change us. Scripture tells us that children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward placed into our care [see Psalm 127:3], and your life has been exactly that.

I prayed over you before I met you. When your mommy’s water broke and you were blessed to remain tucked inside her for four more days, I whispered again and again, “Lord, his name means he is a gift from You. Prepare him for his early birth.” And God carried you into the moment of your birth. And He carried you through 72 days in the NICU, through tiny breaths and tiny steps, until the day you came home before your due date — a miracle wrapped in blankets.

You have been my companion on this journey in ways you do not understand yet, and may never fully know. I changed my own life to care for you, and I would do it again without hesitation. Those early years — the laughter, our simple days together, naptime routines, the camping trips, the Silverwood summers, the “whose Camaro?” jokes, the way you shuffled around with a broomstick cane saying “oh my hip” in your teasing way — they are treasures I carry in my heart. The Lord surrounds us with goodness, filling our days with joys that endure beyond our years [see Psalm 103:4–5].

I think of the Christmas gift trip when you were four and we stayed in the blue train engine — just you, Opa, and me. For two days you “engineered” that train with all the seriousness and delight a little boy could hold. Trains were your world then, and you were in heaven. We walked through the quiet wilderness, watched a bull moose in the distance, experienced an Alpine slide for the first time, and stood on the steel grated bridge as locomotives clattered beneath our feet. It was one of our first treasured memories, and it remains one of the dearest.

From the day you came home from the NICU, we have cuddled and snuggled as naturally as breathing. Those quiet moments — your tiny body curled against mine, your heartbeat resting under my hand — became one of the greatest joys of my life. We have never stopped, and I pray we never do. And even when you are grown and have children of your own, I know our cuddles and snuggles will look different — but a grandmother’s heart still hopes for those moments of closeness in whatever way life allows.

I think of your magic shows in our living room, your tiny hands performing tricks long before you could speak clearly, and how you’ve grown into a little magician who can astonish us still. I think of our nights sleeping in the tent on the back deck — just the two of us — safe from rain and curious creatures, wrapped in the soft hush of night. I think of the meals we’ve cooked together, your “old soul” palate for shrimp, calamari, lobster, and steak, and the Easter bunny cake you decorated with such care when you were just seven years old. I think of the Christian music we’ve introduced to each other, the stories we’ve made up and acted out as if they were real, and the way you’ve always loved Christmas — leaving cookies and milk for Santa, carrots for the reindeer, and a handwritten note for the jolly man you adored.

And then there are the phone calls — the ones where you pretend to be someone else, slipping into a character with a voice and story all your own. Those calls take us into an unseen world, a place only you and I can enter, where imagination becomes real and we end up laughing in the kind of way that makes life feel lighter.

Our conversations are perhaps the best gift of all. Whether we are talking in the car, sitting together in the yard, playing a video game on your bed, chatting while you climb across your ninja gym set, sharing quiet moments at a campsite, or laughing our way through the yearly Christmas gift trips we take together with Opa, those times draw us close in a way nothing else can. It is in our conversations that I have learned who you are, and where I have discovered how to love you more and more. I did not have this with my own grandparents; one set lived far away in another state, and the other set was absent because of death and circumstances that kept those relationships from growing deep. I think that longing for a deeper relationship with my own grandparents is part of why being present and available to you — and to all my grandchildren — matters so deeply to me. Perhaps that is why I treasure our conversations so dearly, and why I pray you will carry these memories into your twilight years. My hope is to offer you insight, encouragement, companionship, and love — and to walk with you as you grow into manhood, and deepen your relationship with God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

And I love the way you are with your younger cousin — so gentle, kind, and patient. I watch you talk with her, dance with her, play with her, make sure she is okay, and share whatever you have without being asked. The tenderness you show her is one of the clearest signs of the goodness God has placed in your heart.

And grandson, I am so privileged to have you in my life — you, the unique person God individually created, set apart, and named as His gift. I am honored to be your Oma, to walk beside you on your own Journey, and to witness the beautiful person God is shaping you to be.

These moments — simple, sacred, unforgettable, treasured — are provisions God has multiplied in my life.

Grandchildren become our heritage — the ones who carry the spirit of us forward, long after our own footsteps fade. You, my grandson, are part of the story God is writing through our family, a living reminder that His faithfulness extends through generations and His blessing rests on those who come after us [see Deuteronomy 7:9]. When Opa and I are no longer here on this earth, we will still be watching over you, still proud of you, still loving you in the ways God allows - a truth Opa himself glimpsed in his near-death experience. Hold that close to your heart. Through you, our love continues; through you, our joy continues; through you, the quiet miracles God has given us continue to unfold.

Two weeks before you were born, your parents changed your name — not even fully understanding the power and gift of the name they were giving you, the name God had chosen for you. “Gift of God.” And that is exactly who you have been from the beginning.

You are my inheritance, grandson — not in earthly things, but in all that God has allowed me to pour into your life. My faith, my love, my prayers, my example, my life in Christ — these are the treasures I leave with you. Earthly things will not matter once I go to live with Jesus; what will matter is the life I lived toward Him, the obedience I offered, the love I poured out. And when we walk the path He calls us to, our inheritance is Heaven itself — the reward God promises to those who are faithful [see Proverbs 20:7]. This is one of the key truths I hope to leave with you.

And I treasure our conversations about God and Jesus — the way you ask questions with such sincerity, the way you listen with your whole heart, the way your faith is already growing in quiet, beautiful ways, and the way you teach me about Jesus, too, through the things you say, as if you carry a wisdom, a knowing - a direct connection to Him that only a child can hold.

When you were seven years old, you chose a St. Michael the Archangel medal — small, silver, and shining — and I told you that even though you chose it, I believed St. Michael had chosen you. We did not know then how deeply that warrior angel would walk with you. Since then, you have learned to invite him into your life, saying in the morning, ‘St. Michael, walk with me today,’ and at night, ‘St. Michael, sleep with me tonight.’ I love watching how naturally you turn to him for protection and courage.

Right now, you are beginning to discover your Guardian Angel – who he is for you, how he protects you, and how he walks beside you. I remind you that my own Guardian Angel has been an important part of my life since I was a little girl. My angel is my friend when I have been afraid or when I feel all alone. Long before I understood how to trust God, I turned to my Guardian Angel for comfort, protection, and guidance. I hope you, too, grow into that kind of relationship with yours, for this relationship provides witness of who Holy Trinity is. Remember, my sweet grandson, the Holy Trinity ought to be the first and greatest relationship of your life. God, your heavenly Father, protects you and nourishes you; Jesus Christ, your savior and brother, teaches you how to live a good and holy life and gives you courage, strength, and protection through the precious Blood He shed for you and The Cross where He bore your sins; and the Holy Spirit guides your spirit along the path of life — your journey on the road to Heaven.

Tonight, when you discovered that your Oma writes — that I have a ministry and a website — you read the latest stories of Provisions For The Journey. And then you looked at me with those earnest eyes and asked, “Why isn’t there a story about me?” I asked if you wanted me to write one, and you nodded. Then you said, “Write it about the fishes and the bread.”

And grandson… that is exactly the story your life tells.

In the Gospel, a little boy brought Jesus what he had — five loaves and two fish. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough. But it was placed in the hands of the One who multiplies. And from that small offering came abundance for thousands [see John 6:1–14].

You, my sweet grandson, are my reminder that God multiplies what we entrust to Him.

Your life began small and fragile, but God multiplied your strength. Your heart is tender, but God multiplies your compassion. Your curiosity is simple, but God multiplies your wisdom. Your presence in my darkest valley was quiet, but God multiplied your light.

You are a gift of God — not only to me, but to everyone who loves you, and to the world you are still discovering. And just like the boy with the loaves and fish, you have something in you that God will multiply in ways none of us can yet imagine.

One day, you will finally get to meet your three siblings in Heaven. One day, you will understand how your life has already carried grace into ours. One day, you will see how God walked with you, even in the moments you didn’t know to look for Him, and in the moments He didn't feel near.

But today — at ten and a half years old — you already know the most important truth: Jesus is real, and He loves you.

And I pray every day that you will grow into the man God wills for you to be — strong, gentle, brave, joyful, and rooted in the love of Christ.

You are my cherished and greatly loved grandson. You are my joy. You are my peace. You are my “why.” You are my reminder that God still works miracles. You are my “five loaves and two fish” moment — the place where God took something small and multiplied it into abundance.

I love you to infinity and ‘beyond’ beyond.

With all my heart,

Oma

XOXOXO

A Message to Other Grandparents

Dear grandparents, your place in the lives of your grandchildren is holy ground. You carry a presence, a tenderness, and a wisdom that no one else can offer. Your love is a shelter, your prayers are a covering, and your faith becomes part of the inheritance they carry long after we leave this earth. One generation tells the next of God’s goodness, passing on the stories of His faithfulness [see Psalm 145:4]. Grandchildren truly are a crown to the aged, and the love we give them becomes part of our legacy [see Proverbs 17:6].

Part of my heart in writing this comes from my own story — from witnessing how deeply children can be wounded when the adults who should cherish them instead respond with judgment, harshness, or indifference. I have witnessed what brokenness in families can do. And I have learned, through both sorrow and grace, how important it is for grandparents to look gently and honestly at their own hearts, to ask where healing is needed, and to seek God’s help in restoring what has been strained. Because of this, I speak to you now with a heart desiring to offer motivation, encouragement, and HOPE — for those who need healing, for those who seek wisdom, and for those who long to bless their grandchildren with deeper love.

With that same gentleness of heart, I offer this next encouragement: let your love be honest. Let your lives be accountable. Sometimes the distance between us and our grandchildren is not caused by them, but by the wounds we have left unhealed or the ways we have failed to love well. Children — and grandchildren — watch us closely. They hear how we speak, they feel how we treat them, and they notice whether our lives reflect the faith we profess. Those who walk in integrity leave a blessing on the generations that follow [see Proverbs 20:7]. If there has been harm, seek healing. If there has been neglect, choose presence. If there has been hypocrisy, choose integrity. It is never too late to become the grandparent God is calling you to be.

And if your relationship with a parent of your grandchild is strained or broken, consider what you can do — with humility and prayer — to remain a steady, loving presence in that child’s life. And if, for the sake of safety or peace, distance is necessary for a time – or if their parents have chosen distance from you, hold that grandchild before God with a faithful heart. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted [see Psalm 34:18]. Trust that when the time is right, God can open doors no one else can open, for He makes a way in the wilderness and streams in the desert [see Isaiah 43:19]. And remember this as well: the God of all comfort comforts us in our troubles so that we may comfort others [see 2 Corinthians 1:3–4]. Sometimes this becomes a cross we carry — quietly, humbly, and lovingly — so that we may walk with others who bear a similar cross.

And when your grandchildren begin to grow and seem to drift or pull away, remember this with a tender heart: it is not about you. It is their discovering themselves, their learning who they are, their not yet understanding the depth of your love. Give them room to grow, and keep your heart open. They will find their way. And trust this promise: God Himself will teach your children, and great will be their peace [see Isaiah 54:13].

At the same time, when distance appears, it can be wise for us as grandparents to ask gently whether any part of that drifting might have come from us. This is not for self‑blame, but for grace. In humility, we can look honestly at our own hearts and actions, asking God to reveal anything that may have caused them to step back. And if we discover such places, we have opened a window for healing - a chance to grow, to make amends, and to hope for the restoration of relationship.

Your presence matters more than you know. You carry a wisdom your grandchildren cannot yet name, a tenderness they instinctively trust, and a faith that becomes a shelter over their lives. You are a living inheritance — the quiet, steady echo of God’s love across generations. For the steadfast love of the Lord rests on those who fear Him, and His righteousness reaches to their children’s children [see Psalm 103:17].

Your stories shape them. Your prayers protect them. Your example guides them. Your unconditional love roots them.

And long after your footsteps fade from this earth, the imprint of your life in Christ will remain on their hearts.

Never underestimate the holy work of being a grandparent. It is one of God’s most sacred callings.

In closing…

I offer these two prayers as companions for your heart — one for blessing your grandchildren with intention and tenderness, and one for seeking God’s healing where distance or hurt has touched your relationships with your children, your grandchildren, or both. You may wish to pray them slowly, return to them often, or print them and keep them close. May they guide you into deeper love, and into receiving deeper hope in God — who calls us close to Him in all circumstances.

A Prayer for My Grandchildren

Lord Jesus, Giver of every good and perfect gift, I lift my grandchildren to You — those already in my arms and those still hidden beneath their mother’s heart.

Place Your hand upon them. Guard their days, guide their steps, and surround them with angels who watch and war on their behalf.

Let them grow in wisdom, in stature, and in favor with God. Let their hearts be tender, their spirits teachable, their lives rooted in Your love.

Protect their bodies, shape their minds, strengthen their souls, and draw them close to You from their earliest breath.

Make them brave in truth, gentle in love, and steadfast in faith. Let them become who You created them to be — whole, holy, and wholly Yours.

And Lord… bless every grandparent, as well as myself. Multiply our love, our joy, our legacy, and our faith into the generations that follow.

In Your holy name, Jesus. Amen.

A Prayer for Healing Broken Relationships

Lord Jesus, Shepherd of our families and Healer of every wounded heart, I lift before You the places where relationship has been broken - with my children, my grandchildren, or both. You see every story, every misunderstanding, every ache that has gone unspoken. Nothing is hidden from Your mercy.

Where distance has grown, sow seeds of peace. Where silence has settled, speak Your restoring word. Where hearts have hardened, breathe Your tenderness. And where I have contributed to the hurt, grant me humility to see it, courage to confess it, and grace to change.

Teach me to love without fear, to wait without bitterness, and to hope without giving up. Heal what is fractured. Mend what is frayed. Restore what has been lost. And in Your perfect timing, bring us back to one another with deeper compassion, clearer understanding, and renewed affection.

Lord, bless my children and grandchildren with Your peace — the peace You promised when You said, “All your children shall be taught by the Lord, and great shall be the peace of your children” [Isaiah 54:13]. Let that peace flow through our generations like living water.

Make our family whole again, by Your grace and for Your glory. In Your holy name, Jesus. Amen.

©2026 Brenda Wheeler Ministries & Brenda Lee Wheeler

Following copyright laws, Scripture quotations are paraphrased in the devotional voice of the author.

This image was drawn by my grandson after he asked if I would write a story about him, and to "make it about the fishes and the bread". The images important for him in his life is Jesus who died for his salvation, Jesus came back to life, God is keeping everything in the world in His hands, St. Michael the Archangel, and the "fish and the bread" to symbolize Jesus taking care of all his needs.

Brenda Wheeler Ministries provides free articles for fellow Christians to receive Provisions for their Journey from where they are now to where they are going. Therefore, to support the expenses of doing so, I participate in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn small commissions by linking to Amazon.com. Thank you for your support of this small ministry. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.