Life Is Good

One of the traditions I am starting with my son is taking walks.

He loves being in the stroller and looking around. He likes to ask questions and watch the bunnies and dogs go by as we roll around the neighborhood. My hope is that as he gets older and out grows the stroller, the walks will continue (cross my fingers for the teen years).

I think and pray a lot as we go around the block, water bottle in hand and ear buds in place.

At times it is hard to focus on the good when my mind seems drawn
like a tracker beam to the bad.

There have been people who have put up a show in public
only to be the opposite behind closed doors.

There have been people who seem to have all the time in the world when it benefits them
but when you are no longer a commodity you no longer have their time.

There have been people who I looked up to with awe but has lately turned to shock.

It has been a mental battle not to become cynical-christian-guy or
pastor-chip-on-the-shoulder.

That has never been me.
I am an encourager not a critic.

When I was younger I would share with my Pastor how
afraid I was of going into the ministry because of being hurt by people.

I assumed the hurts would come from the congregation.
I never imagined it would come from other pastors.

So I walk and stroll and pray, feeling overwhelmed
hoping my neighbors would believe it was the wind making my tears and not my past.

And just like that, I was reminded in a whimsical, childlike way about life on the sidewalk...

Sometimes kids just say it the best.

"At that time Jesus prayed this prayer: “O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike." (matthew 11.25 NLT)

I like to pride myself at times of being a well read individual, looking for the latest hot book to dive into or thought provoking quote to highlight, but it just might be the neighborhood kid with the colorful chalk that will inspire.

My hope is that when I am older and walking around the neighborhood with my son listening to his laments about the latest girl who broke his heart or the teacher that seems to have it out for him, I can remind him that we will always have choice to make.

That there will always be bad in a broken world,
but there is hope, there is good,
if you're willing to look down into the colored chalk of your soul.