Just a Little More Time

ripe blueberries

“For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven… Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 11a NLT).

(Mora–means “Blueberry.” The name was given to me in 2020 by a little boy named Drake who happens to be half-brother to my two oldest grand-girls. Drake’s like a grand-child to me too. He couldn’t say my name, so shortened Maureen to Mora, though he didn’t know the name’s meaning. )


“Mora, are they ready yet?”

And I shook my head. “Lila Grace, look at them. What color are they?”

“Green.” My oldest grand-girl smiled.


“And what did Mora tell you?”

“They need to be blue. Then we can pick ’em and eat ’em.”

“That’s right, silly.” I tousled her blonde head. “Just a little more time.”

Just a little more time.

Seems we’d been hearing those words quite a lot lately, though not about blueberries.

When our third grand-girl was born at thirty-two weeks gestation, making her appearance on May 15th rather than waiting for her July 10th due date, we naturally had concerns. After her emergency C-section delivery, Maci Lynn was rushed to a hospital thirty minutes away, calling the neonatal intensive care unit at Asheville’s Mission Hospital home.

Each time her parents or either set of her grandparents visited, they were told those same five words–

Just a little more time.

Maci Lynn

Like Maci Lynn’s big sisters Lila Grace and Emory do when disappointed, we’d sort of scuff our feet, even if in only a figurative fashion. After all, we can be as impatient as preschoolers when it comes to waiting, and all we wanted was to have that little Sweet Pea home.

The other day, however, we received the call we’d been awaiting, given word that our newborn grand-girl was finally being discharged from the NICU.

“She’s getting out today,” our daughter-in-law told us, and we cheered… in the literal sort of way! “The nurses are going over instructions so…

“…Just a little more time.”

Filled with nervous energy, I sorted through clothes to take to our area women’s shelter, then stashed winter coats still hanging in the hall. Stuffing them in the closet, the thought crossed my mind–so quickly seasons change. It’s summer now but, in no time, autumn, then winter and, once again, Christmas in…

Just a little more time.

So, too, with Maci Lynn’s NIC-U season. It had come to an end. Soon, introductions were made, with uncles and aunties holding and cuddling this little one they’d been so excited to meet.

And later that afternoon, Maci Lynn was doted on by her two big sisters–each over-the-moon anxious to see this baby they’d tried so earnestly to believe was here. Still, not yet three and four, they’d not quite mastered the critical thinking necessary to really know for sure, and we kept telling them…

Just a little more time.

Home from preschool, they stared at her, smelled her, and tickled her piggies for several moments, but Maci Lynn was small and sleepy and didn’t return their hellos. Before long, playing outside in the summer sun seemed a better pastime, and the pair made a beeline for our backyard.

As I pushed them on swings, we sang songs about our Creator, in whose image we’re made.

“Maci W-ynn too?” Emory inquired.

“Yes, your little sister too. Like you, she’s created in God’s beautiful image. He’s got great things for each of you to do in this world, and His plans are perfect.”

“When will we know God’s plans?” Big sister Lila asked.

And my answer?

“Just a little more time.”

Later that evening, I was preparing dinner in the kitchen when the back door opened, then closed. Peeking around to see who’d entered, Emory Wren flashed me a sheepish grin.

“W-ook!” She held up a clenched fist.

“What’cha got there, love?”

Opening her hand, she held it out. “Boo-berries.” And they were–both blue and berries. “Can I eat ’em, Mora?”

“Of course. Want me to get you a container so you and Sissy can pick more than your hands will hold?”

She nodded. Back outside, the pair picked berries, eating most of them, but bringing some inside before blowing bubbles stole their attention.

And prior to the day’s end, we made a cobbler with that fruit–the fresh-from-the-oven dessert devoured in no time. It was a celebration after all!

All the while Maci Lynn slept, passed around from one family member to another, each “ooo-ing” and “ahhh-ing” as he or she offered gentle kisses to the top of her fuzzy head. The words we’d heard so many times over the last six weeks were merely an echo–

Just a little more time.

One day soon, in what will seem the blink of an eye, we’ll tell little Maci Lynn about the day of her birth and the day of her home-coming. No doubt, we’ll include the part about God’s perfect and beautiful timing–yes, His wonderful plan–and we’ll make certain to add, just like the dash of salt tossed in our cobbler recipe…

“You arrived when the blueberries blued.”

And we’ll likely tell her how just a little more time,Ā when it’s God’s time, means there’s an exact season for all things under heaven–a time to be born…

Indeed, a time to come home.

Welcome to the world, sweet Maci Lynn! You’re already loved beyond measure by so many. We’re praying you’ll know the love of your Creator and that, from an early age, you’ll know His ways are perfect, always! You, precious one, were created for good works in Christ Jesus. Now, may it be so!

loved beyond measure

Kind Abba, thank You for the precious gift of children and grandchildren. Thank You for having a perfect plan for them from the very beginning. Thank You for giving us, parents and grandparents, the joy of guiding them along life’s way. Help us lead by example, demonstrating that we’re all on a journey of maturation, becoming more and more like Jesus as we walk with him. And one day–in just a little more time–we’ll be Home with You!



Fresh Fruit Cobbler Recipe

Preheat oven to 375 degrees, allowing 4 T. (1/2 stick) butter to melt while heating.

Remove and blend with fork until smooth:

1 C. all-purpose flour

1/2 C. white granulated sugar and 1/2 C. brown sugar

3/4 C. milk

1 1/2 t. baking powder

Dash of salt

After well-blended, add fresh fruit (we love a mix of blueberries and peaches) to the top.

Sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon.

Bake for 30-40 minutes until golden brown and bubbly.

Serve warm with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream (or both).


Whipped Cream Recipe

1 pint whipping cream

2 T. powdered sugar

Dash of salt

Mix until stiff consistency, making peaks when paddles pull up.

Add 1/4 t. vanilla and blend.

Maureen Miller

Maureen Miller, wife, mother, and "Mora," lives on Selah Farm, a hobby homestead nested in the mountains of western North Carolina. She believes in the beauty of collaborative writing, including guest blogging, and she strives to encourage others along life's journey. Praying to have eyes and ears open to experience God in His created world, Maureen writes about such at https://penningpansies.com, and she regularly shares stories in her local newspaper.

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  1. Iā€™m still happy dancing that Maci Lynn is home! Thank you for sharing your joy for her in this post and also reminding us to be patient in our waiting. This little one is so blessed to be landing in your arms.

  2. This post reflects the wonder and beauty of life created by our Father God. He is worthy of our praise. Congratulations!

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