Baca

Today is my wife's last day at school before she's home for the summer. I've been waiting for this day. And now that it's here, I'm really quite sad. This morning I've been wondering if today might be my final day as a stay-at-home dad. And the thought kind of choked me up. I haven't started blubbering yet, but it wouldn't take much to push me there.

This year has been one of the best years of my life.

I was fired from my last job (technically, I resigned, but I was leaving one way or the other) - something political, I guess. Perhaps they had someone waiting in the dock. I wasn't given a palatable reason, and I was barred from discussing the decision. It was totally unexpected and it ripped me apart.

As I was leaving my administrator's office, he said, "This is going to be a desert time for you."

"I don't like the desert," I said.

"The desert is hell," he said.

But where there was a desert, a garden has bloomed. There are trees that shade me from the heat of the sun. The air is heavy with lilacs. Streams purl. Birds sing. And I find myself sitting at a table that is bowed beneath the weight of God's blessing. And I want to weep. How can it be?

Let all the world know that God makes the dead live, the blind see, the lame walk, the poor rich, and the desert bloom! He is the redeemer of broken things. Who is like him?