My grandmother was born in 1924, the same year the lilting melody of “Rhapsody in Blue” by George Gershwin was first performed to a packed house in New York City. She is a member of the generation affectionately, nostalgically, deemed “the Greatest.” And indeed, she is great—great at loving long, great at making a life that is stable and meaningful. This is a blessing to mark her 95th birthday.
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The first seven years of childhood are an intriguing mix of energetic exploration and tenderness, stubborn outbursts and loving affection, curiosity and innocence. And if there’s one thing I don’t want my son to lose as he steps into the next seven-year stretch, it’s his innocence. But I know that it’s the thing the culture is most likely to take from him. Here are 7 ways I’m praying for my son.
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Before we meet God as a sovereign, law giver, and judge, we meet him as Maker. Our very first impression of God in Genesis is as a creative, as a visionary. God sees formless chaos, and he envisions the world in all its organic wild gorgeousness. He takes the void and shapes it into something magnificent, something essentially good.
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I’ve had a lot of spiritual mothers—women who reflected the character of Christ in a way that drew me to him. Some of those women had biological children of their own, and some didn’t. But the wonder of the church is that any woman in the family of faith can mother in meaningful ways, encouraging and inspiring growth in younger women.
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Sixteen years ago today I was staring out a window in Texas watching torrential rains flood the garden where I was supposed to be married later in the day. I learned then, what I’ve learned many times since, that a marriage takes improvisation and the willingness to change course, sometimes at a moment’s notice. We…
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Tina Boesch 