Carried In

Today was a pretty special day all around. I got a little older today. For thirty eight years now I’ve been breathing the clean air of the Arkansas River Valley under its bright blue sky.

This morning we started meeting in our new location with our faith family New Life Church. I grabbed this pic of my dad with my youngest son.

There are so many cool things happening here. I don’t think my dad knew I was taking it. This is just him. Loving my son. Carrying him to church.

My dad always carried me to church. I know not everyone’s father does that. Mine did. Sometimes, like when I was little, it was in his arms. But my dad always took me to church. Because his dad always took him to church.

Faith, and love, and family will get us to where we belong. We belong together. We belong in the places and the spaces where we can be loved better than anywhere else.

I wouldn’t pretend to assume that our church is perfect. We make mistakes. We aren’t the best. But we try. We want to love well, live well, and learn how to do it better the next time. I learned that from a dad who always took me to church.

Baby Eyed Faith

   I have always had strong faith. Faith just comes really naturally to me. That isn't to say that I have not gone without struggles. And I find myself deep in doubt more often that I am comfortable admitting. But overall I am quick to grasp faith in God, his goodness, and his personal impact on both my eternal and temporal my well-being. But I know after countless conversations over the years that I am not necessarily the norm in the faith department. Staring into our one month old son's eyes last night I started thinking of this verse from Matthew's gospel in a different way. 

And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3 NIV)

My son Jonathan is a month old. This early in his development his vision is roughly 20/400. He sees nothing but a blur past the twelve to eighteen inch mark, and colors are largely something he will not even begin to appreciate for three more months. What does this have to do with faith?

Jon doesn't have to scramble, cry, and worry for everything in his life, it is provided for him. He doesn't have to fret for his safety and well-being. It is provided for him. All my son has to do is sit back and be. 

He just has to be my son. The very fact that he lives and breathes, that he is mine, bestows upon him the guarantee for protection and provision given to the fullest measure of my ability.

Even in my easy approach to faith there are moments of darkness. There is apparent blurriness. There are times when I do not have the answers and no answers seem forthcoming. Those are the moments when even walking by faith seems impossible. 

In those moments we must simply be. We must belong to the Father. We must realize that just being his guarantees us the fullest redemptive measure of provision and protection that is His to muster, which is all of it.

It's yours. Just be His kid. 

That doesn't guarantee you a steep bank account and a lavish life. But it is an unshakable eternal promise worth SO MUCH MORE.