The knowledge that today is Good Friday has barely affected my day.
Isn't that terrible?
It crossed my mind this morning when I woke up. I was reminded, again, when I went to get a haircut and found the salon was closed. Only after some half-hearted dinner plans were cancelled did I think, oh, well, that's good... we shouldn't really be having fun today.
As my day drew nearer to its end and I drew my son close to rock him to sleep, an awareness came over me: I'm not the first one in history to have embraced a precious son.
Throughout this day that has barely been affected by the knowledge that today is Good Friday, I have taken care of my baby. I've fed him, clothed him, cleansed him, and even provided learning opportunities. Halfway through our day, in a moment of preoccupation and fatigue, I abruptly left my infant to cry in his crib. I regret that for a brief moment he felt quite alone.
God let his Son feel alone, once, too. Only He wasn't busy cleaning, organizing, or resting his brain surfing the internet on his smartphone. God let his Son feel alone because he knew one day I'd be doing all those things. He knew I'd fall terribly short at showing my family how much I loved them.
Tonight, as I cradled my baby's warmth, I watched him stare into my face as he drifted off to sleep. He was perfectly happy just to be with me. He didn't remember the days business or how I'd left him to cry. Because he loves me so much, he simply forgot. I'd gotten another chance to love him right.
What do you start calling chances after you've blown through seconds, thirds, fourths, and beyond?