Joy to Spare

After dinner. Grandma resting on Grandma's lap, Grandpa stroking Grandma's arm. Duncan: "Grandpa's softing Grandma!" Love it.

I had heard people say that having a child renews your sense of wonder. The way she watches a single ant for twenty minutes. His excitement at seeing an elephant in the clouds. But I hadn't anticipated all that giving way to the most euphoric sense of awe at what the Lord not only can make, but spent the first half of eternity making for His children. To show His love for us. To communicate His invisible existence. I used to dread spiders. Loathe them. Lose sleep over them. They still freak me out, but now when I see one of those strange creatures, I hope it's not the kind I have to kill. Even the brown widow spider praises her Creator with her grace and beauty as she glides down to the ground before I smack her with a sandal. (I'd leave her alone on a hike, but on my kids' fort, she's toast.) I've always seen rainbows and thought, how beautiful. But now I see in them God's promise. Yes, not to flood the entire earth again, but more than that. All His prom

(about a year ago) Big Bro: If we went too fast, the policeman would knock us over. (yesterday, talking to Mommy) Big Bro: I really like your singing, but would you keep reading now, please? (He's a master of tact. Must have gotten it from Daddy, cause I know it didn't come from me!)