A couple of days ago I took four of my grandkids to the park. It was Jude’s idea initially, that one so full of ideas and possibilities and joy in relationship.

Why don’t we go to a new park together every week?

And then my little idea-man thought about it with twinkling eyes and added,

And we should go for ice cream too! A different place every week.

And so this last Monday I found myself with passel of kids at Ibach Park in Tualatin.

Three three-year-olds and one six year-going-on-thirty. And me.

And do you want to know what? It was the funnest day I’ve had in a long, long time.

I laughed so hard at their show-off antics, marveled at the pure joy of Duke’s running free and fast, stripping off his shirt when it got wet and in the way.

I giggled with Sunday as that girliest of girls played in the mud with her pink painted fingernails.

Watched Mo’s always-thinking face figure out how to get the trickle of water going in the direction he wanted it to flow.

And let Jude lead his troupes into another adventure.

And when I saw all those muddy hands— white and cream and olive and darkest brown— I could hardly catch my breath. These are mine!

My legacy.

My family.

Our day at the park may not be high impact in the scheme of things. I’ll never win a golden award for all the sand I washed down the bathroom sink. The likelihood of their even remembering the day is slim…

But it was my day to love and be loved. To revel in the Father who made us all- and likes the way He made us.

And you know, I just can’t think of a better way to spend my day.

From my heart,


And let the favor of the LORD our God be upon us:

and give permanence to the work of our hands;

yes, give permanence to the work of our hands.

Psalm 90:17