Day 8
My wife and I got up together to watch the sunrise this morning.
We've been together, Ginger and I, for over 25 years now and I think that's the first time we've ever watched a sunrise together.
I wouldn't be surprised if Ginger remembers another time that I don't, because that happens quite a bit. I like to consider myself somewhat of a romantic, insomuch as I am helplessly in love with my wife, but my memory isn't always the greatest, so there's every possibility that I've let a previous sunrise with my wife slip my mind. But her sheer love of sleeping certainly has prevented us from seeing most, what with her being in bed and all, and not outside.
In any regard, they've been few and far between, if they've been at all, and I suggest you grab your sweetie the first chance you get and watch one together. It was very nice.
And of course, watching the sunrise here over the ocean is different from watching it, say, from over the Wal-Mart in Heartland Crossing, which is where it would be if I could actually see it from my house, which I can't. (The sunrise, that is.) For me to see a sunrise from my house, it has to rise over the trees east of about 4 houses down from us. I can't imagine that would be as pretty as it is here, but I can't honestly say, because I don't think I've ever made a point to head out of my house and specifically watch it, to my detrement.
How many times have I been driving -- anywhere -- and seen the sun come up and not be moved by it like I am here. Often, I'm annoyed because my eyes really don't do well out in the sun, especially looking right into it.
Shame.
Because every day the sun comes up is a good day. As Tom Hanks says in Cast Away, "I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?" That hits home here more, when you see just how spectacular a sunrise really is.
But there's one more thing... I got to watch it with the most beautiful girl in the world. As gorgeous as the sunrise is, there is nothing more gorgeous than Ginger. If God gets an A for the sunrise, He gets and A+ for the girl I get to watch it with. Because she is the reason getting up in the morning to watch a sunrise is worthwhile.
So for me, I guess it's not the sunrise after all. It's who I got to watch it with.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Day 5... Hooping and Hollaring
Day 5...
After lounging much of the morning, I decided it was time to once again get in the ocean. The wind has calmed considerably since our first days here, and consequently the surf has done the same. Ginger, who is still recovering from the surgery on her head, had a little pain this morning, so she went back to nap and me and the boys ventured out.
Gone was the seaweed and the other junk that was stirred up in the water from the wind-blown days. The ocean on this day was much more clear, and even though it is calmer, the surf is still breaking right at the beach line pretty stout.
We weren't in five minutes when Cory got bit by something. Not sure what, but he had two little teeth marks at the base of his foot. His day in the water was over, save wondering around at beach line and letting the surf roll around his feet.
But Cody was the highlight. If you know my youngest son, he is the excitable sort. Adventurous and loves to have fun. To explain what he did today, I have to tell a story from several years ago.
When he was 5 or 6, I found a deal on Priceline one weekend, and just he and I flew out to Los Angelas for a coupla days. We'd never seen the Pacific Ocean. We rented a car and just drove for a day or so looking around. But he wanted to get in the ocean. He'd never seen an ocean, much less get into one. It was Springtime, so it was pretty chilly. But he didn't care. After getting over the scare of the first wave hitting him, he sat down in the edge of the surf, freezing, and just hooped and hollared as wave after wave came and crashed in on him. He had a blast, and it was so much fun sitting there, not only watching him, but listening to his obvious enjoyment.
He did that again yesterday. Yes, he's almost 15 now, but he sat at the beach line and yelled and screamed like he was a little boy as the waves would blast him up on the beach and then roll him back out in the water. I laughed for half an hour just listening to him. Later, he sat in the sand as the surf rolled in and out until his swimsuit literally bulged with sand. He had to get into the ocean and remove his trunks to let the sand out just so he could walk back.
As bad as I felt for Cory for the bite on his foot, Cody made it up for both of us as we laughed at him the whole time.
Just as we started to leave, a young lady came jogging by. Appealing as she was, we were forced to linger a bit, and Cody was very tempted to follow her in a jog. His better judgment prevailed and we headed back.
As it started to rain later and on into the evening, we stayed in and watched movies and ate in the house.
This is the reason we never left our kids behind when we went on vacation. I'm in no position to judge others, but Ginger and I NEVER went on vacation without our boys. We had a family so we could do things as a family, and I never understood others who can leave their kids behind when they want to go have some fun. Just never made sense to me.
There will come a time, very soon, as it turns out, when our boys will be out on their own, and we'll have plenty of time to ourselves. And I absolutely love the opportunities Ginger and I have to be alone when they arrive, but our time with our children is becoming very fleeting, and I never wanted to miss the chance to be with them and enjoy their company.
Yesterday reminded me of why.
After lounging much of the morning, I decided it was time to once again get in the ocean. The wind has calmed considerably since our first days here, and consequently the surf has done the same. Ginger, who is still recovering from the surgery on her head, had a little pain this morning, so she went back to nap and me and the boys ventured out.
Gone was the seaweed and the other junk that was stirred up in the water from the wind-blown days. The ocean on this day was much more clear, and even though it is calmer, the surf is still breaking right at the beach line pretty stout.
We weren't in five minutes when Cory got bit by something. Not sure what, but he had two little teeth marks at the base of his foot. His day in the water was over, save wondering around at beach line and letting the surf roll around his feet.
But Cody was the highlight. If you know my youngest son, he is the excitable sort. Adventurous and loves to have fun. To explain what he did today, I have to tell a story from several years ago.
When he was 5 or 6, I found a deal on Priceline one weekend, and just he and I flew out to Los Angelas for a coupla days. We'd never seen the Pacific Ocean. We rented a car and just drove for a day or so looking around. But he wanted to get in the ocean. He'd never seen an ocean, much less get into one. It was Springtime, so it was pretty chilly. But he didn't care. After getting over the scare of the first wave hitting him, he sat down in the edge of the surf, freezing, and just hooped and hollared as wave after wave came and crashed in on him. He had a blast, and it was so much fun sitting there, not only watching him, but listening to his obvious enjoyment.
He did that again yesterday. Yes, he's almost 15 now, but he sat at the beach line and yelled and screamed like he was a little boy as the waves would blast him up on the beach and then roll him back out in the water. I laughed for half an hour just listening to him. Later, he sat in the sand as the surf rolled in and out until his swimsuit literally bulged with sand. He had to get into the ocean and remove his trunks to let the sand out just so he could walk back.
As bad as I felt for Cory for the bite on his foot, Cody made it up for both of us as we laughed at him the whole time.
Just as we started to leave, a young lady came jogging by. Appealing as she was, we were forced to linger a bit, and Cody was very tempted to follow her in a jog. His better judgment prevailed and we headed back.
As it started to rain later and on into the evening, we stayed in and watched movies and ate in the house.
This is the reason we never left our kids behind when we went on vacation. I'm in no position to judge others, but Ginger and I NEVER went on vacation without our boys. We had a family so we could do things as a family, and I never understood others who can leave their kids behind when they want to go have some fun. Just never made sense to me.
There will come a time, very soon, as it turns out, when our boys will be out on their own, and we'll have plenty of time to ourselves. And I absolutely love the opportunities Ginger and I have to be alone when they arrive, but our time with our children is becoming very fleeting, and I never wanted to miss the chance to be with them and enjoy their company.
Yesterday reminded me of why.
Day 4... The Mall
Day 4...
We went to the mall yesterday.
I could probably just say "Nuff Said," and be done with it, but really, there is more to it than that. My wife wanted to lay out (which I'm all for, because she puts on a swim suit and gets tan) and the boys and I just weren't into it.
So we left to explore. Drove up the costal roadway from Delray, which, quite frankly, should feature a lot more ocean scenery than it does, the view being mostly blocked by trees and expensive homes and such. Searched and found a music store in Boynton Beach, which is really just another beachfront community on the east coast of Florida, but is sorta fun to say.
Turns out, there's not a lot of music stores in this area, which is kind of a bummer, but the one we found did have a few left-handed guitars, which is rare to any music store. They still weren't high-end models, but oh well. They never are, but I digress.
That led us to the mall right behind the music store. Pretty standard, really, but nice. Once again, however, after I leave, I'm struck by the irony that I have traveled to south Florida to visit a mall that virtually featured everything as do the malls in Indiana, including the oriental food we ate. Cory did buy us some Popeye's Chicken biscuits, though, so there's that.
Since we couldn't find anymore music stores, we decided instead to seek out pawn shops. Exciting stuff, yeah? We found a few, and with the exception of two teenage boys in charge of one who were watching Big Bang Theory on a big screen in the shop, they left a little to be desired, pawn shop-wise.
So what's the moral? I'm left to understand that, more or less, we are all creatures of habit. We all, I think, basically live and play in places that make us comfortable. We move when we become so uncomfortable we can't take it anymore. And when we leave home -- wherever home may be -- we eventually tend to seek out those things with which we are familiar. I'm trying to change that up a bit while I'm here, but I think there's something to be said for the fact that I'm waking up everyday in a gorgeous beach front home, with the Atlantic Ocean within arms reach, and I went to a mall.
On the other hand, I got to spend some time with my boys. And that ain't so bad.
We went to the mall yesterday.
I could probably just say "Nuff Said," and be done with it, but really, there is more to it than that. My wife wanted to lay out (which I'm all for, because she puts on a swim suit and gets tan) and the boys and I just weren't into it.
So we left to explore. Drove up the costal roadway from Delray, which, quite frankly, should feature a lot more ocean scenery than it does, the view being mostly blocked by trees and expensive homes and such. Searched and found a music store in Boynton Beach, which is really just another beachfront community on the east coast of Florida, but is sorta fun to say.
Turns out, there's not a lot of music stores in this area, which is kind of a bummer, but the one we found did have a few left-handed guitars, which is rare to any music store. They still weren't high-end models, but oh well. They never are, but I digress.
That led us to the mall right behind the music store. Pretty standard, really, but nice. Once again, however, after I leave, I'm struck by the irony that I have traveled to south Florida to visit a mall that virtually featured everything as do the malls in Indiana, including the oriental food we ate. Cory did buy us some Popeye's Chicken biscuits, though, so there's that.
Since we couldn't find anymore music stores, we decided instead to seek out pawn shops. Exciting stuff, yeah? We found a few, and with the exception of two teenage boys in charge of one who were watching Big Bang Theory on a big screen in the shop, they left a little to be desired, pawn shop-wise.
So what's the moral? I'm left to understand that, more or less, we are all creatures of habit. We all, I think, basically live and play in places that make us comfortable. We move when we become so uncomfortable we can't take it anymore. And when we leave home -- wherever home may be -- we eventually tend to seek out those things with which we are familiar. I'm trying to change that up a bit while I'm here, but I think there's something to be said for the fact that I'm waking up everyday in a gorgeous beach front home, with the Atlantic Ocean within arms reach, and I went to a mall.
On the other hand, I got to spend some time with my boys. And that ain't so bad.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Day 3... Just Being
Day 3...
I got in the ocean yesterday, which is saying something, because the flags on the beach were red, meaning that it's a little dangerous, one is to suppose. The waves were breaking at about three or four feet, after several days of very high winds here in the area.
I've been in the ocean before, lots of times, but as I get older, I understand what Jerry Seinfeld meant when he said that really, mankind spends a lot of time trying to get into the ocean, and that the ocean is just always trying to throw us out. Seeing as I seemed to be the only guy in eyesight who was willing to venture out as far as I did, I figured that maybe I ought to heed that warning. So Ginger and I sat down on the beach right at the edge of the surf until our suits filled up with sand.
I realized as I sat down and started to write down my thoughts that I didn't have any real insightful message to pass on. No deep, emotional thoughts, or meaningful knowledge good for the universe. As such, I think I instead felt the importance of what it feels like to just be. Lots of Neil Diamond songs come to mind, like "I Am, I Said" and "Be."
To just be, to exist, to be a part of the carriage ride that is our everyday life. I'm no more important here in South Florida than I am in Central Indiana, but somehow, it just feels that way. Something about the power of the ocean, the salt in the air and the wind in my face makes me feel that my existence is more potent in some way. That by being, I really do matter.
Of course, maybe I'm just enjoying myself so much that I've gone nuts. Maybe I'll look back on this post someday and think, "What in the freak was I talking about?"
On the other hand, we did go to a mexican restaurant that did NOT serve queso, AND wasn't spicy. It was very good, but they didn't have melted cheese, and I didn't have to set my face on fire to enjoy the food. Have you ever been to a mexican restaurant that didn't offer queso with their chips? Or a genuine mexican place that didn't set every dish ablaze before serving? That's gotta mean something deep, right?
Oh yeah, and I remembered that the sight of my wife in a bathing suit still turns me on.
I got in the ocean yesterday, which is saying something, because the flags on the beach were red, meaning that it's a little dangerous, one is to suppose. The waves were breaking at about three or four feet, after several days of very high winds here in the area.
I've been in the ocean before, lots of times, but as I get older, I understand what Jerry Seinfeld meant when he said that really, mankind spends a lot of time trying to get into the ocean, and that the ocean is just always trying to throw us out. Seeing as I seemed to be the only guy in eyesight who was willing to venture out as far as I did, I figured that maybe I ought to heed that warning. So Ginger and I sat down on the beach right at the edge of the surf until our suits filled up with sand.
I realized as I sat down and started to write down my thoughts that I didn't have any real insightful message to pass on. No deep, emotional thoughts, or meaningful knowledge good for the universe. As such, I think I instead felt the importance of what it feels like to just be. Lots of Neil Diamond songs come to mind, like "I Am, I Said" and "Be."
To just be, to exist, to be a part of the carriage ride that is our everyday life. I'm no more important here in South Florida than I am in Central Indiana, but somehow, it just feels that way. Something about the power of the ocean, the salt in the air and the wind in my face makes me feel that my existence is more potent in some way. That by being, I really do matter.
Of course, maybe I'm just enjoying myself so much that I've gone nuts. Maybe I'll look back on this post someday and think, "What in the freak was I talking about?"
On the other hand, we did go to a mexican restaurant that did NOT serve queso, AND wasn't spicy. It was very good, but they didn't have melted cheese, and I didn't have to set my face on fire to enjoy the food. Have you ever been to a mexican restaurant that didn't offer queso with their chips? Or a genuine mexican place that didn't set every dish ablaze before serving? That's gotta mean something deep, right?
Oh yeah, and I remembered that the sight of my wife in a bathing suit still turns me on.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Day 2... Vegging Out
Day 2
I woke up this morning and took a walk on the beach. It was, of course, beautiful. Even though there were clouds this morning that blocked the view of the actual sunrise, I still think I got some nice pictures of the sun streaking through, finally breaking free about a half hour later.
Yesterday, we vegged. As Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman: "Be still like vegetables. Lay like broccoli." That's pretty much what we did all day. We never left the condo. Ate inside all day and watched TV. Which means we must be the only nerds in the world who left the cold weather in Indiana to come to Florida and stay inside all day.
In our defense, it was pretty windy outside, and even though the temps are in the 80's, there was a riptide warning on the beach, and the waves were crashing pretty high, so it was probably in our best interest to not test it, being lifelong landlubbers and all. Plus, the wind can really jack with Ginger's head and cause all kinds of ear aches and so forth. So she doesn't like to be out in the wind much.
But there's something to be said for just relaxing. Usually, on vacation, I'm the one who wants to be on the go, all the time, much to the chagrin of my wife. I like to do all the things on vacation that I can't do at home. Ginger likes to lay on the beach. She's resolved herself all these years to just follow me around on vacation, God bless her, and she often remarks how she comes home more worn out than before we left.
But for some reason, I've really been looking forward to just relaxing on this one. Just taking some time to rest and soak it all in. I suppose we all need to do that sometimes. Just "lay like broccoli," as it were, and rest while the rest of the world floats by. I think I need that right now.
So I walked on the beach this morning, while everybody else slept (except for Cody, who decided to go for a jog even before I got up, and promptly got lost trying to make it back to the condo.) I walked, and I prayed, and I watched a guy fish, and another guy throw the frisbee to himself. He really did! He would throw it up into the wind, and then chase it down as it blew back his way. I watched little birds (I really don't know what kind they are) pick at the sand when the water would recede, and then run away as the tide chased them back.
After a few, I sat down on a beach chair and just watched the sun break through the clouds. I called my Mom and told her I loved her.
And as I sat there, I wondered to myself: Do the people who live here all the time ever get used to this?
I woke up this morning and took a walk on the beach. It was, of course, beautiful. Even though there were clouds this morning that blocked the view of the actual sunrise, I still think I got some nice pictures of the sun streaking through, finally breaking free about a half hour later.
Yesterday, we vegged. As Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman: "Be still like vegetables. Lay like broccoli." That's pretty much what we did all day. We never left the condo. Ate inside all day and watched TV. Which means we must be the only nerds in the world who left the cold weather in Indiana to come to Florida and stay inside all day.
In our defense, it was pretty windy outside, and even though the temps are in the 80's, there was a riptide warning on the beach, and the waves were crashing pretty high, so it was probably in our best interest to not test it, being lifelong landlubbers and all. Plus, the wind can really jack with Ginger's head and cause all kinds of ear aches and so forth. So she doesn't like to be out in the wind much.
But there's something to be said for just relaxing. Usually, on vacation, I'm the one who wants to be on the go, all the time, much to the chagrin of my wife. I like to do all the things on vacation that I can't do at home. Ginger likes to lay on the beach. She's resolved herself all these years to just follow me around on vacation, God bless her, and she often remarks how she comes home more worn out than before we left.
But for some reason, I've really been looking forward to just relaxing on this one. Just taking some time to rest and soak it all in. I suppose we all need to do that sometimes. Just "lay like broccoli," as it were, and rest while the rest of the world floats by. I think I need that right now.
So I walked on the beach this morning, while everybody else slept (except for Cody, who decided to go for a jog even before I got up, and promptly got lost trying to make it back to the condo.) I walked, and I prayed, and I watched a guy fish, and another guy throw the frisbee to himself. He really did! He would throw it up into the wind, and then chase it down as it blew back his way. I watched little birds (I really don't know what kind they are) pick at the sand when the water would recede, and then run away as the tide chased them back.
After a few, I sat down on a beach chair and just watched the sun break through the clouds. I called my Mom and told her I loved her.
And as I sat there, I wondered to myself: Do the people who live here all the time ever get used to this?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
God's Beauty from Delray
Day 1
I'm sitting here on the patio on my first morning here in Delray. It's not my first time seeing the Atlantic Ocean but it is my first time here in this part of Florida.
As is always the case with the ocean, the view in the morning sun here is breathtaking and I'm reminded once again of the beauty of Gods creation. This is a place I think I could get used to and a place a person would want to make time for.
My wife says she loves palm trees. Says the sight of them just makes her happy. That makes me happy, because she deserves to feel that way and so I'm glad she's blessed with the chance to see one.
As pretty as it is though, I wonder why we always have to leave on a vacation and go away from our home to be reminded of the beauty of God and His creation. As I sit here and think about it, I see His beauty everyday in my normal life.
I wake up every morning next to His most beautiful creation. She's still asleep right now in the back bedroom, missing seeing the palm trees bending over in the morning wind off the surf. But she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, whether she's asleep or awake, here in Florida or back home again in Indiana.
The colors of the trees back home are beautiful right now. I think my yard is pretty. Especially after it's mowed. I have a cool yard. It's green, with the texture of clover and crab grass, and in the spring it's mixed with the colors of yellow and white of the dandelions and in the fall with the color of the falling leaves. Sometimes, we get lucky and those little purple patches of flowers just crop up all over the yard. Some people have boring yards, with no color or texture. Just green grass. I like mine better because all those pretty things come from God without any help from me at all.
Sometimes, I wake up and my two dogs are curled around me and my wife. Most times, actually. And occasionally my dog KC curls up with me and let's me hold him like a teddy bear. We'll sleep that way, he and I. I think that's beautiful.
I could go on, but the truth is, God's beauty is around us everywhere we go, no matter where we end up. And I suppose if there's anything I can take away from my time relaxing here, I want to remember that I don't have to leave home to experience God.
He's all around us, all the time.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Loving Bri.... What's in a tear?
I shed a few tears today. Not many - I am ashamed to admit, not quite understanding why - but a few nonetheless. I heard the news as I was just about the watch the first pitch of my own son's first baseball game of the Spring. And spent some private thoughts trying to understand just what that tear meant.
What's in a tear? In my wife's was genuine sorrow, twinged with a speck of guilt that perhaps she'd missed an opportunity to visit one last time and tell the Princess that she loved her. That guilt, however small and unwarranted, will fade. My wife had a sister-like connection with her, and she will soon understand that the Princess knew full well she was loved. Her tears will eventually transform into joy, with praise in knowing that she was healed after all.
But what's in my tear? I think I have some ideas...
There's grief in the loss of someone so precious.
There's hurt in my heart in seeing my wife's sorrow.
There's sadness in seeing an entire community feel that their idea of a miracle didn't happen.
There's regret that I didn't do more. And that I was stupid enough to think that I "couldn't" do more.
There's sorrow for her family, realizing -- but, of course, never comprehending -- the tremendous loss they must feel.
There's comfort in knowing that the Princess is now healed. No more pain, and made whole again. The little girl who was once so full of life is now full again. Running and jumping and dancing. Maybe she'll even pet my dog Gizmo if she can catch him.
There's satisfaction in knowing she loved Jesus, because her Mommy and Daddy took the time to take her to church and teach her about God. Truly the greatest gift they could have ever given her.
There's joy in knowing that there will be people in Heaven because of the Princess and the powerful story she had to tell. People who may not have been there otherwise.
There's assuredness in knowing that God did not do this to her. That this terrible, horrible, evil disease came from Satan, whose only worthless trait is to prowl around in the night like a lion seeking someone to devour. A spirit so vile that the best he can do is prey on innocent little girls and steal their little lives in his sick hope that it will turn people away from God. Little did he know that it did just the opposite.
There's wonder in how God can turn something so terrible in our world into something so glorious in His. That He could somehow unite an entire community in the sole purpose of praying for a little girl, with the sole outcome being that God is praised, and people who didn't know Jesus will get to join the Princess in Heaven.
There's elation in knowing that God is greater than anything we can ever face. That He can be glorified even in the worst of circumstances. And that there are people willing to praise Him even in their greatest sorrows.
There's hope that somehow, someway, my life can have a fraction of the impact on others that this little girl's did -- in a fraction of the time, no less. That my 42 years plus can somehow touch people the way her 9 plus did.
There's the color pink, everywhere.
There's praise to God for blessing me with family -- a wife and two glorious sons -- who I want to hold a little closer tonight and not forget to thank God for.
There's thankfulness that I had the chance - if only briefly - to know the Princess. To have held her in both her good health, and her sickness. And that even though she liked to hide under the table from me at times, she seemed to genuinely like to see me. And to be held by me. And that I had the chance to tell her I loved her, at her 9th birthday party. And that I got to see her smile when the clown came in.
There's gratefulness that I am friends with her parents, and that I can count them among my brothers and sisters in Christ. That her Dad is a man of God who is worthy of our respect, and her Mom is a woman in whom Jesus would be proud.
There's probably more, but I'm tired, and hurting, and just hoping that God will give me the right word to say at the right time.
That's what's in my tear. Later there may be more tears. Right now, there's just a few.
What's in a tear? In my wife's was genuine sorrow, twinged with a speck of guilt that perhaps she'd missed an opportunity to visit one last time and tell the Princess that she loved her. That guilt, however small and unwarranted, will fade. My wife had a sister-like connection with her, and she will soon understand that the Princess knew full well she was loved. Her tears will eventually transform into joy, with praise in knowing that she was healed after all.
But what's in my tear? I think I have some ideas...
There's grief in the loss of someone so precious.
There's hurt in my heart in seeing my wife's sorrow.
There's sadness in seeing an entire community feel that their idea of a miracle didn't happen.
There's regret that I didn't do more. And that I was stupid enough to think that I "couldn't" do more.
There's sorrow for her family, realizing -- but, of course, never comprehending -- the tremendous loss they must feel.
There's comfort in knowing that the Princess is now healed. No more pain, and made whole again. The little girl who was once so full of life is now full again. Running and jumping and dancing. Maybe she'll even pet my dog Gizmo if she can catch him.
There's satisfaction in knowing she loved Jesus, because her Mommy and Daddy took the time to take her to church and teach her about God. Truly the greatest gift they could have ever given her.
There's joy in knowing that there will be people in Heaven because of the Princess and the powerful story she had to tell. People who may not have been there otherwise.
There's assuredness in knowing that God did not do this to her. That this terrible, horrible, evil disease came from Satan, whose only worthless trait is to prowl around in the night like a lion seeking someone to devour. A spirit so vile that the best he can do is prey on innocent little girls and steal their little lives in his sick hope that it will turn people away from God. Little did he know that it did just the opposite.
There's wonder in how God can turn something so terrible in our world into something so glorious in His. That He could somehow unite an entire community in the sole purpose of praying for a little girl, with the sole outcome being that God is praised, and people who didn't know Jesus will get to join the Princess in Heaven.
There's elation in knowing that God is greater than anything we can ever face. That He can be glorified even in the worst of circumstances. And that there are people willing to praise Him even in their greatest sorrows.
There's hope that somehow, someway, my life can have a fraction of the impact on others that this little girl's did -- in a fraction of the time, no less. That my 42 years plus can somehow touch people the way her 9 plus did.
There's the color pink, everywhere.
There's praise to God for blessing me with family -- a wife and two glorious sons -- who I want to hold a little closer tonight and not forget to thank God for.
There's thankfulness that I had the chance - if only briefly - to know the Princess. To have held her in both her good health, and her sickness. And that even though she liked to hide under the table from me at times, she seemed to genuinely like to see me. And to be held by me. And that I had the chance to tell her I loved her, at her 9th birthday party. And that I got to see her smile when the clown came in.
There's gratefulness that I am friends with her parents, and that I can count them among my brothers and sisters in Christ. That her Dad is a man of God who is worthy of our respect, and her Mom is a woman in whom Jesus would be proud.
There's probably more, but I'm tired, and hurting, and just hoping that God will give me the right word to say at the right time.
That's what's in my tear. Later there may be more tears. Right now, there's just a few.
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