from the hobbit hole (II)

I have a sort of fetish for taking pics of Sky.
(Is 'fetish' the right word?)

Christmas has passed, and it could’ve been worse. Most Christmases find me in a rather dour mood, but yesterday was marked with joy, peace, and kinship. I’m thankful for that. Jessie has been sending me job openings in Illinois, asking me to move up there and share life with her and Tony. It does sound appetizing, but I’ve decided to stick things out here for a while. Corey and Mandy will probably be moving to Portland this spring, and I’d like to have as much time to hang out with them as possible (though, with working 50-60 hours a week, time is precious, and I don’t see them as much as I would like). I’m also trying to get involved at U.C.C., to break down those introvert barriers and stretch myself as much as possible. I’m getting involved in the Young Adult Group and will be volunteering to run the café on several Sundays, so that’ll help me (a) get involved and (b) meet people. I’ve even been going on time to make sure I’m there for the meet-and-greet (the most despised of all church traditions). That’s really a big deal for me, even if it seems fickle to you.

My father wrote me a “Christmas letter” that I’ll cherish for as long as I live. It contained lots of things that stir me as I read them now, and one thing stands out in particular: I can’t put into words how impressed I am with your mental toughness. I know you have faced many challenges over the past several years, and your perseverance is an example to me—I believe you are much stronger than I was at your age. Things have indeed been difficult over the past couple years, and though I often feel weak, I know I’m strong, stronger than I know: I haven’t called it quits, I hang onto hope, I keep going even when every experience tells me I should just stop and give up. I’m a resilient bastard, I really am. And I thank God for that.

I want you to know, he continued, that I pray for you every morning. I pray for your faith to grow, I pray for your protection, and I pray for your future wife. I’m not really sure why, but that last part really moved me. He prays for my future wife; whoever she is, she’s blanketed in prayers by a man who loves God and strives to serve him and honor him in all that he does, and I’m confident she’s better for it. I admire my father, for so many reasons, but not least for this: he’s a man after God’s own heart. He’s humble, he’s passionate, he’s devoted, he cares for others and is active in the community. He seeks God’s will in all things and makes Christ the center of his marriage to my mom. He stands as an example to me, and I hope that when I have a wife and a family, I will be even half the man he is. I know he’s hard on himself all the time, and I know he has his mistakes and sins just like anyone else, but his heart is good, changed by Christ. He’ll tell you that he’s entirely different than the man he used to be, and my mom will agree. I take it as an encouragement when people tell me, “You’re just like your father,” because in my case, that’s a cherished compliment.