“Hmm, where did we see that other Cinderella card?” I wondered aloud to my four-year-old granddaughter, Sawyer.

She smiled and shrugged, which meant she knew but she wasn’t going to tell me.

We were playing Memory—Disney Princess Edition. So far, Sawyer had found seven matches. I was still working on my first one.

I flipped over a card, hoping to see Cinderella. Nope. I’d found Ariel from The Little Mermaid.

Sawyer giggled as I turned my cards back over. Then, as expected, she flipped over the two matching Cinderella cards.

“It was right here, Grandma,” she said. “Your rememory isn’t very good.”

Distracted by Updates

My husband, Eric, walked into the room, overhearing Sawyer’s words.

“Oh, honey, if you think Grandma’s rememory is bad, you don’t even want to know about Grandpa’s!” he said.

I laughed. “I don’t know about that. She’s beating me seven to nothing.” Sawyer pointed to her newly acquired Cinderella match. “Scratch that. Eight to nothing.” I gave Eric a look and whispered, “And I’m not letting her win. I’m trying my best.”

He nodded. “Yeah, but you’ve got a lot on your mind. Thankfully, Sawyer doesn’t. She doesn’t have anything to worry about besides which two memory cards are the Snow White ones.”

“You’re right. I’ve been distracted by my phone while we’ve been playing.”

“Updates from the hospital?”

Yes, I’d prayed about all of these situations. But then I’d continued to worry about them. DIANE STARK

Faulty Rememory

I nodded. Eric’s 80-year-old mom had been admitted a few days before. Family members who were there with her were texting frequently with updates on her condition. We’d been there most of the day, but we’d come home to watch Sawyer so our daughter could head to the hospital for a bit.

Eric squeezed my shoulder. “Well, no wonder you can’t remember where Rapunzel is. You’re worried about Mom.”

The truth was, I was worried about a lot of things. Eric’s mom. Some close friends who were going through some serious challenges with their son. Another friend who was struggling in her marriage.

They were all things I couldn’t do much about, but they were keeping me up at night. And distracting me from enjoying my time with Sawyer.

“Here’s Rapunzel,” Sawyer said, flipping over the matching cards. She started to put them in her stack but then handed them to me instead.

“Grandma, you can have this match. Since your rememory isn’t working today.”

In His Hands

She scooted over to sit in my lap, and I blinked back tears. I knew that my real problem wasn’t a faulty “rememory.” It was my inability to completely give my worries to God.

Yes, I’d prayed about all of these situations. But then I’d continued to worry about them. I wasn’t fully trusting God to answer my prayers in the way He thought was best. Despite countless examples of His faithfulness throughout my life, once again, I was struggling with fully trusting God.

It seems my rememory was broken, after all.

I needed to fix that right away, but with Sawyer at our house, my options for spending time with God were limited.

Then I had an idea.

“Hey, Sawyer, can we sing a song for a minute? Then we can finish our game.” She nodded, so I grabbed her little hands in mine and started singing, “He’s got the whole world in His hands, He’s got the whole wide world in His hands.”

For the second verse, we sang that God had Great Grandma Stark in His hands.

As I looked down at Sawyer’s hands in mine, I reminded myself that there was no safer place for my sweet mother-in-law to be than in God’s hands. And whatever happened, God was in control and her future—whether here on earth or in heaven—was secure because of His great love for her and her faith in Him.

I didn’t need to worry. God’s hands are big enough for all of us.