Last night, I was reading our worn copy of Peter Rabbit to Joseph, a copy that had been mine as a child, which makes it practically an antique.

What struck me, though, was not my own age, but rather the fact that twenty years ago, I was probably doing the same thing: reading Peter Rabbit to a strong-willed little boy and wondering if the mild, bittersweet lesson about obedience and common sense would sink in…ever.

I think it just might have. He’s 23 years old today, that boy, a fact that I can barely get my head around. He’s been through some stuff, just like anyone his age, and he’s come through in a way that make me proud. He and I, in particular, went through some pretty hard head-knocking periods, and I am quite sure that if, at the time, you had told me that today we would be still talking a couple of times a week, and that despite our differences, I’d be thoroughly confident in his character, intelligence and judgment…I’d have called you nuts. To your face.

It’s good to have that experience as I once again, parent young children. All the stuff they say about seeds is absolutely true. All the stuff they say about putting the children first, sticking to your guns, admitting your mistakes and just being there, being there, being there…are true. I’ve made it  a priority to give my children time, above all else, and it’s been a fight, believe me, between me and my selfishness. But I knew in the end, it was the only meaningful thing I could give them, and I could never make it up.

And now I see the payoff. Two young adult sons, off in the world, both of whom I miss very much, both of whom have suffered their own troubles, small and great, who seem to be doing well, who seem to have solid heads on their shoulders, and who still call me up, tell me what’s going on in their lives, willingly and with wit and perspective, have confidence, and seem to have the right attitude about their place in the world and what they’re supposed to do with the lives God gave them. Most of the time. Maybe Peter Rabbit sunk in after all.

So they were right. Time. Time is of the essence. Time is precious, and most of all…time flies.

Happy Birthday, Chris.