The last day of June is always bittersweet, because it signifies that the summer solstice is past, and we are embarking upon the half of the year wherein days ever shorten.
June 30.
It's Duffy's birthday. His first birthday.
We spent the last week with some of our kids, and I remember being their age, even though everything was different. Differences not withstanding, there is something universal about becoming an adult, and it seems strangely familiar to watch them navigating their world as we navigated ours.
Driving home across the USA, a little before twilight, I looked out at the cars humming along the interstate around us, a sparse collection, illuminated by the slanted brightness of the nearly set sun. I saw a red car and a white car; they looked like something out of a movie, and I thought about my parents being young adults, and how they figured out how to live in their world. And then we came along. And now we are passing the baton to yet another generation.
Mostly, it makes me tired to think about these things, the gains, the losses, the memories that nobody will remember.
And yet, there is hope, because God remembers it all. He has stored our tears in bottles. He has observed every baby birthed into this beautiful, terrible, fearful world, and He has paid attention as tiny flowers bloom on mountainsides. He has seen tornadoes rip giant trees out of the ground and watched the waves of the sea crush mighty ships. He was there before electricity was harnessed, before radio waves and TV broadcasts, before the internet. He will be there long after Artificial Intelligence crashes and burns, and the computerized banks of the world have fizzled into the nothingness that they really are.
Our hope is in the Lord, God of heaven and earth, Creator of time, space and matter. He is our hope and our glory to come in that day when the summer solstice will never end.
No comments:
Post a Comment