There are many things in life that give me pause, that make me stop and breathe deep with the gratitude of, “Oh, Lord, thank you that you knew better than I.” Scenes like this are one of them:
On the surface, it’s so simple, isn’t it?
A father. A son. A rainy Saturday afternoon. A quiet moment.
That alone is worth drinking in. That alone is beautiful to the point of filling a heart with simple joy.
And yet…
This father once thought his highest calling in life would be to be on the top of his game at the biggest newspaper in the nation. This father once worked 50, 60+ hours per week, missed dinners and bedtimes, took phone calls at all hours to stay ahead of the competition. This father once said no to more kids because the cost– financially, socially– was too high.
This son was once an orphan. This son was once a statistic. This son was once a name in a court file, another “case” to be handled, another situation to be resolved.
These are the things I want to proclaim from the rooftops when someone asks us why. Why so many kids? Why try to keep making missions work? Why not take the road more travelled, just this once?
Moments like this, I want to say.
Moments that, on the surface, look like one thing, but are really another. Moments bathed in the mundane that are anything but. Moments where the theme of redemption and love are so loud I can’t hear anything else.
It’s always there, in every life. Just under the surface. In your own day to day, look for it. Find it. Peel back the outer layer of what is so clearly not special, and find the ways it is. I guarantee it will radically alter your perception of life, of worth, of what is important.
There is always more than meets the eye, if you are willing to see.