When my friend, Rob Corser, posted an incredible picture of his super cute daughter I knew that I had to try to capture it in cartoon. Not only does it speak to me of childlike wonder and the magic of imagination, but also of the inherent strength in our daughters, granddaughters, wives, sisters, moms, and grandmothers.
What if?
What if the tables were turned and the roles reversed?
What if the underlings suddenly found themselves upper management?
What if the outsiders suddenly found themselves the in crowd?
What if you found yourself on the other side of the desk?
Suddenly on the inside or outside…
Would it change the way that you treat people?
Roy was an astronaut whose feet never, ever left the ground.
He had all the right stuff, he seemed to be sound.
But, he let the wrong stuff take up space in his crowded mind.
He was stuck in a worry warp that made orbit impossible to find.
He worried about space, how would he know when he got there?
What would he eat? would there be enough air?
He worried about tomorrow, he regretted his past and was cautious about today.
Isolation was the safest bet, get locked in the space ship and stay.
He wondered about his space suit, did it look cool, did it fit just right?
What if he sneezed with his helmet shut? That would surely be a snotty sight!!
Instead of dancing in moon dust, he just jumped to conclusions.
Instead of starry eyed dreams he fed his fearful, odd delusions.
It so sad that insecurity caused him to have zero zero gravity.
He fretted and fussed about things that never came to be.
Fear and worry are both really such a complete scam,
They can twist you and leave you in a real space jam.
Instead of a rocket man, Roy was just a rocking chair kind of guy.
Moving all the time, without actually ever going anywhere. He never got to fly.
Hope is a tangible thing that can change the world.
Hope is also a name for a girl.
Hope is my sister.
She has changed our world.
You probably wouldn’t instantly identify us as siblings. She is tall, and beautiful, and Korean.
I’m short, beautiful in my own special way, and quite white.
She is my sister, always has been, always will be.
Our bond is deeper than biology.
Hope has long been the responsible one, She went to a serious school and got a super legit job. She is the youngest in our family, but she takes care of the rest of us. She has countlessly blessed and bailed out the rest of the tribe that she was chosen to be a part of.
She takes care, without fanfare.
She is constantly looking for ways to make things better, without making a big deal.
But sometimes the unnoticed gets pointed out in the most unexpected ways.
Sometimes you get a sweet kiss from Jesus, you get a sacred shoutout.
My granddaughter was born a little over a week ago.
When a baby is born, there is always a mad scramble to ascribe physical attributes.
“Awwww, she has her Daddy’s nose…”
“She looks just like her grandma…”
But, when Henley made her big earthly entrance, it was undeniable…
She was beautiful.
She looked Asian.
She looked a whole lot like her great aunt Hope, which I think is pretty great.
It’s proof that God’s paintbrush is not limited by race, He can honor with any hue that He choses to.
it’s proof that God who is manifest goodness keeps track of the goodness that we quietly unleash and unloose in the lives of others.
Godly imitation removes earthbound limitation.
It’s also proof that God is ridiculously creative and He really likes my sister.
I think it’s proof in diapers that the Creator wants to honor Hope for the generosity and love she have shown ALL of her family.
As I look into my granddaughter’s face, I realize that she has never known comparison.
At this point in her life, She has never been made to feel like she is anything less than beautiful.
She has never been told that she is unworthy or not enough.
She is priceless.
I know the day is coming when she will be made to feel less, and that breaks my heart. She will encounter comparison and criticism.
We will protect her for as long as we can, but we live in a world with broken ideas about worth.
So today, I look into her new eyes and I’m lost in the miracle. I’m awestruck by the perfectness.
She makes her grandfather’s heart dance.
I wonder if part of being “born again” is rediscovering our original beauty and recognizing our incomparable worth and dignity.
Once upon a time we didn’t know comparison.
We were enough.
Maybe, it’s time to realize that we are priceless.
We are perfect.
When comparison is taken out of the equation, perfection is attainable for all of us.
You are the perfect you. You have never been done before.
In the last few days, I’ve become reacquainted with the matchless miracle of life.
God creates and calls it good.
It is priceless and beautiful.
Don’t second guess that.
Get lost in the miracle.
That is what makes the Father’s heart dance.
“Once there was a way,
To get back homeward.
Once there was a way
To get back home.”
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Fun Bobby who wanted to live and really wanted to party.
He wanted to make it big. he was confident, he knew it all, he thought he was a real smarty.
If only he could get out of his house, if only he could escape his home town.
There was big fun to be had, friends to be made, and great adventure to be found.
So, he went straight to his father who had always been super supportive.
He was hoping for an early inheritance, that only Dad could freely give.
He rehearsed a speech and took a haughty stance…
He said…”Hey yo Pop, you are pretty much dead to me,
So give me what I want now , and let me run loose.”
(Hey!
Wait…
that…
doesn’t…
even…
rhyme!)
As you can imagine, this broke his Dad’s heart in more than 427 different ways.
But Dad truly loved his son and he prayed this was just a stupid phase.
So the father made sure that Fun Bobby got his share.
In the shadows, his big brother whined “hmmmppth, that’s not fair!”
And so…
Fun Bobby quickly left Kansas in the rear view mirror without hesitation.
He headed for the BIG city, in search of ladies, liberty and libation.
He made lots and lots of friends, because he made the money rain.
He didn’t stop to realize that everything was slowly going down the drain.
His big dream was to be a famous hip hop superstar,
To drop sick beats as he drove a fast sports car.
But, alas this was not meant to be,
For, he had no poetic skills you see.
He couldn’t rhyme, he couldn’t even beatbox.
His singing voice sounded like a wounded fox.
Each night, in the club, he got up on stage.
Swinging like he was next up in a batting cage.
Striking a pose, He would clear his throat as loud as you please,
and say in a squeaky voice that reminded people of wet cheese:
“I’m Bobby from Kansas and I’m here to say…
I’m gonna rock the mic like a newborn goat”
Nobody knew what that meant AND it didn’t rhyme.
He was booed off the stage in record time.
It seems like the party was over fast,
His fast lane dreams were out of gas.
He spent ALL his money on banana popsicles and cheap boxed wine.
He eventually found himself in a foul smelling pigpen of his own design.
It’s really hard to soar with the eagles when you hang out with the swine.
It seems, Fun Bobby just wasn’t fun anymore,
Without all the money, he was just a big bore.
But, then Bobby had a thought…a most desperate, hope filled thought…
My Dad’s employees eat regularly and they all have a lot more than I’ve got.
Maybe, Just maybe, I can just work for him and get a brand new start.
He owes me nothing, I was the punk who stomped on his heart.
And so…
He turned his heart toward home and he ran there.
He didn’t stop or slow down, he knew he didn’t dare.
Not sure what to find, but willing to take a chance.
He rehearsed a speech and took a humble stance…
The father was waiting, watching for Bobby to return.
He ran so hard to greet his son that his legs began to burn.
He threw his arms around Bobby and joyfully jumped up and down.
Instead of a browbeating, he got a bear hug that left him unwound.
Dad decided it was time to celebrate.
“Let’s party!! There’s no time to wait…
Breakout the mirrored ball, piñata and delicious barbecue…”
Dad shouted “My son was dead, but now he’s brand new!!”
FINALLY, Bobby realized that the party was at home all along.
He found TRUE fun, he still couldn’t rhyme, but he found his song.
Then word got out that Bob’s big brother was mad, he felt cheated.
He pouted, “It’s not fair that Dad throws a party for him, I’ve been mistreated”.
The brother was proof that you can leave home without ever walking out the door.
He was a judgmental party pooper who felt like he always deserved more.
Big brother was the owner of a Prodigal heart that never learned how to dance.
And sadly, he missed out on the big party altogether because of his hateful stance.
Once upon a time, there was a man named Fun Bobby who discovered how to live and FINALLY found the party.
He came alive when he rediscovered a father’s love that was unconditional, unending, strong, happy and hearty.
And so…
Once there was a way to get back home for all the prodigals and posers.
There are days that stand out.
There are days that change the rest of your days.
There are days that grab you and hug you and remind you that life is mysterious and good.
There are days that are filled with pain and promise and wide eyed wonder.
There are days that are truly grand in every sense of the word.
There are days that the smallest person can instantly capture a big part of your heart.
There are days that are magical, days that you will never forget, days when amazing new stories begin.
There are days that when, as your greatest blessings come into your life, they are messy and cranky.
There are days when you are left in awe by the miraculous gift of life.
TODAY is one of those days.
Welcome to the world to our little love nugget.
Happy birthday Henley Jade.
We are so very glad to meet you.
We couldn’t love you more,
GiGi and Big Papi.
I saw mercy in the tear stained face of a child who had lost a father and forgave the murderer.
And I realized at that moment that, in the darkest days, There is light…
Because of mercy.
Mercy is strong.
Mercy conquers evil.
Mercy is bigger than hate.
Mercy is a muscle. It gains strength as we exercise it. It can become atrophied.
Mercy wraps its arms around the bringer of pain because it sees them as broken.
Mercy only grows from a garden of gratitude.
For whom much is given…
It is fueled by grace.
Mercy is impossible, it is supernatural.
Mercy is holding up a mirror to heaven and letting that be our face.
Mercy is an unappreciated casserole served to the undeserving. Mercy is never, ever deserved.
Mercy is receiving the key to our chains as we let go of the chains of others.
Mercy is beautiful and bold and breathtaking.
Mercy wins.
Maker, you have shown us mercy…
Maker, may we show mercy.
#ChrisStapleton
carbonated joy 