untitl

this past saturday night i went to a celebration: a 'we-almost-got-divorced-but-didn't' celebration. it was ben and dottie's 11-year anniversary and one worth making memorable. indeed it was.

it was evening. their small backyard was dotted with round white tables and candlelight. they made a stage out of the ben-built gazebo. about 30 of us who walked with them through that rough time rejoiced with them as the sun set, being thanked for the support and watching them declare their love to one another again.

but the best moment wasn't on stage. it was at my table, where their eldest boy of 9 sat watching his parents' night like he was an adult. i remember when ben was a youth pastor he'd tell the story of his son wanting to be just like his dad: first a carpenter, then a youth pastor, then a pastor, in mirror sequence to his father. in those winter months when their family was being broken apart, it was the kids i think we all grieved for the most, especially when remembering that story and the boy.

but there he was, smiling silently in his fancy clothes, watching his dad and mom tell the story of their God's triumph. i wondered how much he grew up in that experience? i wondered how much was beneficial/negative? either way, that night i swear he understood more than most 9-year olds ever have, or ever get the chance to. i could see it in his tightly shut eyes as he sang his heart out to his dad's worship, "Blessed be the name of the Lord, Blessed be Your Name."