Todays post is provided by Josh Rhone. Josh is a husband, father, pastor, and wearer of many hats. He resides and ministers in Mount Union, PA. Josh enjoys reading theology, running and roasting (and drinking) coffee. He blogs occasionally at JoshuaRhone [dot] com and has recently authored a children’s book (Who Cares?) with his daughter.
The beach has long been
one of my favorite places. As a kid I would go there with my parents and
siblings. At times we would be accompanied by my grandparents on my mother’s
side or my uncle and his family. As a teenager, a friend would accompany me so
that I would have someone my age to pal around with. In 2004, my wife, Crystal,
and I made our first trip to the beach. It was our honeymoon. Two years ago, we
visited a beach on the West Coast and spent a few days relaxing with friends––Dan
and Joanne––that I met while in seminary. Our (almost) yearly trips to the
beach now include a whole new cast of characters: my brother-in-law and
sister-in-law, Maddie and Quinton (our children), and soon our yet-unborn nephew.
While I could wax on for
hours (and pages) about our trips, the stories, the food, and the fun that we’ve
had, I won’t. Instead, I’ll jump straightaway to the picture and why I’ve
included it.
The picture represents
one of my favorite places. But, to me, this picture speaks of something much
more significant. In the picture are three of the people who I count as my
greatest blessings in life. Crystal is an agape wife––a woman of great love,
who is a model for what it means to love with no-strings-attached. She puts up
with my erratic schedule and the long hours that I often work. She has stood
beside me and carried much of the load as I’ve completed graduate school and
have jumped headlong into a post-graduate research program. She’s graceful in
her parenting and reminds me (daily) that I have a lot of room to grow in that
area. Quinton and Maddie exude passion. Passion for life and an inexplicable
sensitivity to others. They serve as ever-present reminders of how thoroughly
adult I’ve become and how very much I need to recapture the loud and courageous
beauty of childlike faith. They mean so much to me.
But as I look at that
beach, littered with footprints, I’m reminded of the many others who have been
a part of my life. My parents, who have been there since day one, and have
taught me so much about life, faith, marriage and ministry. There are my
brother and sister who, despite the fights and arguments of our childhood, have
become dear friends and confidants. My grandparents who did what every good grandparent
should do and spoiled usrotten. Each footprint represents a friend, Sunday
School teacher, pastor, professor, congregation member, college roommate––someone
whose life has intersected with my own and has in some way, shape or form
affected me and left a mark. Some of those interactions have been more
impactful, leaving a deeper, more recognizable mark; but each has had value and
significance.
Today, I thank God, for
those whose lives and stories have intersected with my own. I thank Him for the
many things that I’ve learned and the way that those relationships have shaped,
defined, and refined who I am (and who I am becoming). I am grateful for each
person and I pray that today you can look at your life and join me in
expressing gratitude to God for those who have littered your life with their
footprints.
