I often marvel at how events that seem so heavy at the time are sometimes just a gentle tool in the hand of God.
This was a rough week at the end of a trying academic year. Staying open was so good for our boys, and I’m truly thankful, but it’s come at a cost. There’s a collective exhaustion, a heightened reactivity, a general frustration at the very protocols that have gifted us safety. Living together on a closed campus as we do, it’s not easy to hide our vulnerabilities.
Things take on added weight.
Immersed as I was in the hard, I wasn’t thinking about my son’s next birthday, his would-be-27th.
He’s everywhere, of course; I can’t walk down the hall without seeing him.
Little him and big him, smiling him and still him.
It was estimated that there were 600 people at my son’s memorial service.
Maybe you were one of them.
I’ve taken to praying for the 600 every morning. They are precious to me, like the pearl of great price:
Later that day, Jesus left the house and sat by the lakeshore to teach the people. He taught them many things by using stories, parables to illustrate spiritual truths, saying:
Heaven’s kingdom realm is like a jewel merchant in search of rare pearls. When he discovered one very precious and exquisite pearl, he immediately gave up all he had in exchange for it. Matthew 13
I cannot say for sure, but perhaps that’s the exchange.
A marvel.
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