Here I sit at half past 2 in the morning, listening to the playlist on my sister’s blog. Tears come to my eyes as I listen to the music. Aim so blessed. I look over the pictures on her blog and see the smiles and the kids and warm embraces. The family that I grew up in is now grown. We are scattered all over the globe. Christmas will be different this year. I see the smiles of my own kids in my mind. Life has taken the innocence of a little boy and in its place left sweet memories of growing up. Now I see the wonder of innocence in the eyes of my own son and daughter. And I pray that I can be as good a parent to them as were my parents to me. I dream about my family at night. I can hear my wife’s voice. What did I do to deserve such abundant blessings? Life is frighteningly short. From swaddling to crawling to walking to running and falling it all passes quickly. This war reminds me that some things are worth dying for. But some die too soon; life slipping through my hands and my heart. Like a broken glass, Lord, fill me.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Meaning
Here I sit at half past 2 in the morning, listening to the playlist on my sister’s blog. Tears come to my eyes as I listen to the music. Aim so blessed. I look over the pictures on her blog and see the smiles and the kids and warm embraces. The family that I grew up in is now grown. We are scattered all over the globe. Christmas will be different this year. I see the smiles of my own kids in my mind. Life has taken the innocence of a little boy and in its place left sweet memories of growing up. Now I see the wonder of innocence in the eyes of my own son and daughter. And I pray that I can be as good a parent to them as were my parents to me. I dream about my family at night. I can hear my wife’s voice. What did I do to deserve such abundant blessings? Life is frighteningly short. From swaddling to crawling to walking to running and falling it all passes quickly. This war reminds me that some things are worth dying for. But some die too soon; life slipping through my hands and my heart. Like a broken glass, Lord, fill me.
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Eric, how is it that we got from those two kids making jailbreaks in preschool to this place where we have preschoolers ourselves? Everytime, I hear one of those songs about being home for Christmas, I cry thinking of you and Kari spending all the holidays apart. You aren't far from our thoughts and prayers though. And as the family is at Vail I remember the highlights with you last year skiing together like old times and peaking in on the kids at ski school. Good times!!! Great memories!!!! Abundantly blesssed to have such an amazing family!!! I love you, bro, and I'm bursting with pride for you!!!
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