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If I don’t do what he says, he doesn’t burn the book or cancel my subscription. If I disagree with what he says, lightning doesn’t split my swivel chair or an angel doesn’t mark my name off the holy list. If I don’t understand what he says, he doesn’t call me a dummy. In fact, he calls me “Son,” and on a different page explains what I don’t understand. Remarkable. At the end of the day when I walk through the house, I step into the bedrooms of three little girls. And one by one, I bend over and kiss the foreheads of the angels God has loaned me. Then I stand in the doorway and wonder why in the world he would entrust a stumbling, fumbling fellow like me with the task of loving and leading such treasures.
Then I go and crawl into bed with a woman far wiser than I … a woman who deserves a man much better looking than I … but a woman who would argue that fact and tell me from the bottom of her heart that I’m the best thing to come down her pike. After I think about the wife I have, and when I think that I get to be with her for a lifetime, I shake my head and thank the God of grace for grace and think, Remarkable. I’m learning not to take these everyday miracles for granted. I’m discovering many things: traffic jams eventually clear up, sunsets are for free, Little League is a work of art, and most planes take off and arrive on time. I’m learning that most folks are good folks who are just as timid as I am about starting a conversation. I’m meeting people who love their country and their God and their church and would die for any of the three. I’m learning that if I look … if I open my eyes and observe … there
are many reasons to take off my hat, look at the Source of it all, and
just say thanks. |
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