A kaleidoscope of sons

Often in my mind's eye I see my adult sons as if through a kaleidoscope:

There they are 10, 15, 20 Christmases ago, right next to how and what they are now.

I hear their childhood voices in harmony with their men's voices now, sounding at the same time. Somehow the chords make sense.

I see Jeremy diving for second base in sandlot baseball; I see him playing makeshift hockey with a milk carton as goal; I see him graduating with his masters degree.

I see Andrew so disappointed that his matchbox car wouldn't go down the slide. I see him exulting at his first strike after many gutter balls.

I hear baby Josh trying to say "ice cream"; I see him reading Reformed Theology.

I see pieces of me mixed right in there, pieces good and not so good.

In the kaleidoscope, time goes away. It is all happening now.

Only somehow it is decidedly not-now. I can't ever have any of it back.

And I wonder if God sees things this way. Except through His kaleidoscope, all of it is still actual, in actual time. He knows ends from beginnings; and He does what He will.

In my case, I also see the stupid things I did; I still hear the stupid things I said in anger. There it all is, in the kaleidoscope.

I hope my sons don't see and hear them now. But somehow I suspect they still do.

How is it that God entrusts young men with fatherhood? Young men who themselves are still trying to figure things out?

Logos2Go

Matthew 7.11 If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!

Isaiah 46.9-10 Remember the former things of old, For I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like Me, declaring the end from the beginning, And from ancient times things that are not yet done, Saying, 'My counsel shall stand, And I will do all My pleasure...'