From Whence Cometh Joy?

Our wonderful granddaughter, not quite two months old, has been remaking our world. It is not just her indisputable beauty, her disarming charm, or her obvious brilliance. It is something more, something deeper and even a bit mysterious.

In the past few days Ashley has begun to smile and even to seemingly laugh inwardly in response to external stimuli. It is now too frequent and predictable to allow you cynics to dismiss it as gas. This beautiful little girl is beginning to know joy.

But why? I'll admit my three-finger helicopter landing on her stomach is pretty entertaining. My ability to twist my face into something resembling a mop would obviously result in gales of laughter among those older and more sophisticated. But how does Ashley know this is funny stuff?

It may seem like an insignificant question, but I think it is something well worth pondering. I cannot account for it except to say it seems clear that laughter and joy are inbred and not learned. To have joy, to laugh, to smile--these are inherently a part of what it means to be a human being.

I have had the privilege of traveling rather widely throughout the world. I can distinctly remember playing with a group of children in an African village. We shared no common language. We came from entirely different worlds. But within minutes we were all laughing and joking together as we played little games that American children would readily know. Laughter knows no geography, culture, or language. It comes from within.

There are many things in our world that conspire to snuff out joy and to mute laughter. To do so is a crime against humanity. Ashley has reminded me that a smile is far more than a pleasingly upturned lip. It is a declaration of life itself.

Blogging and Birthing - A New Beginning

Over the past months I have been reminded, most vigorously by my sons but also by others, that my blog came to something of a cliffhanger ending a year ago.

Having announced that some traditions withstand all change I then had to confess I was wrong. Some traditions, no matter how virtuous or significant, must yield when life intervenes with demands of a higher order. I said such had happened to us on Christmas Day 2006, chose not to give specific details, but assured everyone that all was well.

I did not intend for a year to pass without further posts, nor can I explain why. My sons have goosed me about it a few times. They seem to think that declaring all is well and then dropping off the face of the blogging earth tends to send a mixed message. Some of you have gently inquired and expressed hope that we might begin again.

And so we shall.

The picture accompanying this post is of our son Brian, his wife Lyda, and our first granddaughter Ashley. (If you cannot wait to see more pictures you may find them in abundance here.) She arrived on December 18. 2007, a beautiful burst of new life, and a whole new reason to talk about those things for which I still care very deeply--the creation of community that embodies heritage, diversity, and peace.

I'm not sure where we'll go with the blog. I'm thinking a lot about faith and politics these days. I wonder why? I've got some rants in me and they're looking for an outlet.

The clinic lost my urine sample one day and I think that needs to be discussed. I'm troubled about the fact that restaurants rarely include spoons in their table service anymore. This needs to be exposed.

I'm upset about Darfur, worried about health care, angry with politicians, and optimistic about the Kansas City Royals. Again.

But I'm also feeling kind of soft and gentle these days. You see, I get to hold Ashley quite a bit. And therein is all the hope one needs.

And therein is a good reason to begin again--blogging and birthing.