Boy was the news a downer tonight. Massive earthquake and destruction in New Zealand, four American yachtists dead after being held hostage/executed by pirates, the standoff in Wisconsin over the governor's ambition to bust up the middle class (don't be fooled), Crazy McCrazerton Gadhafi willing to sacrifice his own people (and send oil prices soaring), baby dolphins washing up on shore because of the massive BP oil spill....it's easy to get discouraged. I've often wondered, am I just getting older and more aware, or are these some really crazy times?
I've got to admit, my heart has been getting more and more heavy as I sympathize with so many of the hurting.
But
I have also been feeling extremely blessed. Even among all of this, there is hope.
One recent way in which I've felt palpable hope is in watching my son. I know, I know, cliche parent thing to say. But it's cliche because it's true.
My son recently colored a cute little picture and gave it to me for Valentine's Day. Sure, it was colored in nicely; he gave it some careful attention and time. But best, down at the bottom of the picture in shaky, sometimes backward, not really in line, all capital letters were four words: Mom, Dad, Caeden and Avery.
And I realized, my son is learning to read and write. If you've never seen this process take place, I hope you get to experience it some day. Truly, it is amazing. This little bug who at one point couldn't even hold up his own head, recognizes that letters have sounds, sounds work together to form words, and words have meanings. And that he can make those himself; he can write what he thinks is important. And, important to him, is us.
Not only that, but he, at four years old, can do what probably less than half of the entire world is able to do. He is literate. We are blessed to live in a country where he can become that. We are blessed that he has the ability to do that.
And that is amazing.
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