A Note of Thanks to Those Who Use Their Youth As Blessing
This note was really intended to be part of a Thanksgiving sonnet, paying tribute to the people who have left indelible marks on our hearts. Those who have forever carved initials in the fabric of our lives, and who have become part of the tapestry of our forever.
I guess it does not matter that I missed Thanksgiving and that with a page turn, my calendar is headlong into December. It is simply never too late or never inappropriate to give thanks.
The three men I would like to thank, may not stand out to the average eye. They are part of a group that is often overlooked and underappreciated. They are young men. Each, younger than the next and nearer to the start of manhood than to my mid-life experience.
I have to work hard to reattach myself to the young sometimes. I used to work on a college campus, surrounded by young people and connecting deeply with many as they forged their own paths. I understood the pure nature of the younger crowd. Not yet complicated by years of failure and the gaps left between expectation and reality. Often still fresh like dew.
God knew that young people would be misunderstood (1 Timothy 4:12). The Bible uses such active language, "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young." God also knows how we, the not so young, can be fixed in our perspectives. I believe that is why the Scripture also asks the younger generation to be an example of right living. Sometimes our old eyes need to see that it is not always us who are the model for all who come behind. We can learn and we can appreciate.
Young people can be fully equipped to bear the weightiest of responsibilities and can remain tenacious and true. Josiah was only eight years old when he began his reign in Jerusalem and the Bible says he never waivered (2 Chronicles 34:1-2).
There is a boldness and braveness that sometimes is only displayed before years build walls and cautious responses. Young David facing the giant Goliath always comes to mind when I think of such fierce, but God-directed fearlessness.
Mary was a young girl when she was visited by an angel and learned of God's plan for her life and the life of the precious child she would carry. She did not run, she identified herself as a servant of God and laid bare her heart, her reputation, and her very existence fully trusting God (Luke 1:38).
The three men I want to thank look beyond misunderstandings. They are fully confident of their identity as sons of the Most High God. They are brave, courageous and sensitive to the Holy Spirit. They have been willing to tread waters and to walk alongside our young son, who finds every aspect of youth to be a struggle. They draw close even when every turn seems to be covered with thistles and tears deeply, promising to wear thin and wear out even the most tenacious. Yet, they pray for him. They pray for us. They draw close. They speak brave words that seem to bounce back off of hearts with shields built inches thick. But, they speak the very heart of God. They stand upright and provide a model by which we hope our young one will find footholds to eventually follow the same path.
It must feel thankless, really. But they push on. They love. They minister. They envelop. They see more. They see the what could be. They look at our son with God-colored glasses. They see His image reflected in the shiny blue retinas and they keep inviting him in.
It is like a shower of blessing. A Healing balm. Someone not to just walk alongside, but to carry with, despite our limp and inability to equally distribute the weight. We have partners in love. Partners who love the one we love too.
Maybe words really cannot express.
Maybe only three words are really enough.
We are thankful.
I guess it does not matter that I missed Thanksgiving and that with a page turn, my calendar is headlong into December. It is simply never too late or never inappropriate to give thanks.
The three men I would like to thank, may not stand out to the average eye. They are part of a group that is often overlooked and underappreciated. They are young men. Each, younger than the next and nearer to the start of manhood than to my mid-life experience.
I have to work hard to reattach myself to the young sometimes. I used to work on a college campus, surrounded by young people and connecting deeply with many as they forged their own paths. I understood the pure nature of the younger crowd. Not yet complicated by years of failure and the gaps left between expectation and reality. Often still fresh like dew.
God knew that young people would be misunderstood (1 Timothy 4:12). The Bible uses such active language, "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young." God also knows how we, the not so young, can be fixed in our perspectives. I believe that is why the Scripture also asks the younger generation to be an example of right living. Sometimes our old eyes need to see that it is not always us who are the model for all who come behind. We can learn and we can appreciate.
Young people can be fully equipped to bear the weightiest of responsibilities and can remain tenacious and true. Josiah was only eight years old when he began his reign in Jerusalem and the Bible says he never waivered (2 Chronicles 34:1-2).
There is a boldness and braveness that sometimes is only displayed before years build walls and cautious responses. Young David facing the giant Goliath always comes to mind when I think of such fierce, but God-directed fearlessness.
Mary was a young girl when she was visited by an angel and learned of God's plan for her life and the life of the precious child she would carry. She did not run, she identified herself as a servant of God and laid bare her heart, her reputation, and her very existence fully trusting God (Luke 1:38).
The three men I want to thank look beyond misunderstandings. They are fully confident of their identity as sons of the Most High God. They are brave, courageous and sensitive to the Holy Spirit. They have been willing to tread waters and to walk alongside our young son, who finds every aspect of youth to be a struggle. They draw close even when every turn seems to be covered with thistles and tears deeply, promising to wear thin and wear out even the most tenacious. Yet, they pray for him. They pray for us. They draw close. They speak brave words that seem to bounce back off of hearts with shields built inches thick. But, they speak the very heart of God. They stand upright and provide a model by which we hope our young one will find footholds to eventually follow the same path.
It must feel thankless, really. But they push on. They love. They minister. They envelop. They see more. They see the what could be. They look at our son with God-colored glasses. They see His image reflected in the shiny blue retinas and they keep inviting him in.
It is like a shower of blessing. A Healing balm. Someone not to just walk alongside, but to carry with, despite our limp and inability to equally distribute the weight. We have partners in love. Partners who love the one we love too.
Maybe words really cannot express.
Maybe only three words are really enough.
We are thankful.
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