30 April 2017

Father Hearts and Father Wounds ~ Father Heart Round One

Greetings Dear Reader,

On April 12, 1966, my Grandfather took me to my first Braves game at Atlanta Stadium.  It was the initiation of a love for baseball that still holds my heart.  It is a legacy of fathers and sons and grandsons the I cherish.  It is the moment I first began to see how much my Grandfather loved me with a father’s heart.

Yesterday I was privileged to spend the day with my eldest Son, my Grandsons, and my Daughter.  It was my Grandsons’, aged five and six, first professional baseball game.  My Braves won 11 to 4.  There was a moment that I will treasure for as long as possible.

Before the game there was a very cold rain falling.  We had to wait about five minutes for the gates to open.  We put my Grandsons in my large waterproof coat and zipped them up in it.  We created the four-legged coat monster.

Now protected from the cold and rain, the boys played and laughed.  I laughed.  My Daughter took pictures and laughed.  And most richly, my Son laughed his genuine rich laugh.  Amidst all the grandeur and adventure of the day this moment is eternal.  Son delighted in the joy of his Sons showed the depth of his father heart to those beautiful boys.

On such a small scale I caught a glimpse of how the Father must delight in us.  I thought about how much joy was in that moment.  The rain and cold were forgotten.  The only thing that mattered was the laughter and warmth.  We were for a moment unified in pure sweet family.  A father’s heart was filled with mirth.

I know that life is much more that moments of mirth.  It is also a pursuit of the Father who has a longing heart for us.  It is turning and tuning our hearts to seek him, find him, and love him.  It realizing that there will come a time when every moment is a moment filled with the of which I caught a glimpse yesterday. 

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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