He came to me, lobbying for the garment.
"Brett, don't you need to have a tux to be in a wedding?" When Ethan asks questions, he puts his lips together-- a pink button mouth. I could have died from the cuteness. Really, died.
I gave in--joined the forces, hopped on the bandwagon, picked a team.
What would you have done?--
Anyway, Ethan and I were on the pontoon boat ride this past weekend, and I asked him something that probably defies all child-rearing books of the new century on raising an eight-year-old:
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I asked because I knew he'd have a good answer.
"I think," the boat hits some rough water and whinnies like a horse, sending Ethan into the air. When he settles back down he continues, "that I'm just going to grow up, and see what happens when I get there."
This is that child-like faith that we lose somewhere among the SAT prep and then the college applications and then the job interviews and then the cars breaking down and then the tax returns and then the health insurance claims and then the dirty dishwashers and then the recycling that I forgot to put out yet again this week.
I think that we spend a lot of time trying to figure out what our lives are supposed to look like, when we could just "see what happens when we get there."
Isn't this what Jesus has always promised us?
"He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake," Psalm 23
"Whether you turn to the right or left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying,
'This is the way, walk in it.'"