The early days of spring shoot across the property like English ivy, flower like clover. This property can grow up quickly.
Last weekend, after a healthy dose of weed pulling and lawn mowing, Isaac and I measured twine to string across the tomato beds. He used his Bear Grylls pocket knife to cut the twine, closed it responsibly after each use. He helped hammer nails into the wooden frames and tied off the loose ends. When we were finished, we stepped back to survey our handiwork and he said, “I know you love me when you let me work with you, dad.”
I think that’s a proper summation.
Amber, we’ve been hoeing rows together for a few years now, and we’re trying our best to make them straight. We’re learning to serve four boys, teaching them to work hard, pray before meals, and live at peace with others. We’re trying our best to serve a community of friends, sharing meals, struggles, and faith with one another. We’re hunkering deeper into church, and I hope to God we’re serving them half as much as they’re serving us.
Serving together seems to change things. When we put aside the argument du jour, when we roll up our sleeves and get the dirt of service under our fingernails, I feel a kinship. We know we’re on the same team, pushing toward the same goals. There is a freedom in this kind of service, in denying ourselves for the best of others. It is a constant point of refocusing, a reorientation toward what matters and a misdirection from what doesn’t.
In serving together, I’ve seen your wisdom, compassion, and mercy take flesh. I’ve seen you as God intended. And that’s really pretty.
Thank you for serving with me. Let’s keep spurring each other on to love and good works.
Please join Amber, Joy, Scott, and me as we celebrate the truth about marriage. Every Monday in April we’re writing letters because we believe that when we bless our own marriage, we bless the marriages of others. If you write a post, share your link at Amber’s place. Thank you for joining us.