Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love of your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart . ( I Peter 1:22)

Today marks the birth of my youngest child. Will the Thrill (as Rick Reichner calls him) has been a marvel to behold. When he was born, his fine black hair stood straight up over each ear. We didn't know it then, but we soon discovered that the sheer force of his zest for life had gelled it there. Will, it turns out, has a heart the size of Canada, and a smile that blooms easily and punctuates his selfless acts. Will's view on life is stunningly simple; give, give, and give hard. Adore your older brother, even if he holds the balloon just over your head. If the ball comes to you, dive for it, always. If your mother looks with longing at your hot fudge sundae, hand her the spoon, over and over again. His relationship with our dog is indicative of his perspective: they both approach life the same way. Neither wears socks or cares about whether his shoes are tied. They care not at all that Will's bed comforter might be mistaken for angora. What matters is being together, enjoying romps in the woods at every opportunity, and giving themselves wholeheartedly to every relationship, and every experience.

Will has the kind of heart God wishes for in us all. While I often wish (and strive to encourage) for Will a more intellectual commitment to God and a more scholarly approach to Biblical principles (just a few months ago, he actually forgot who Noah was), I celebrate his singularly indomitable spirit and know that God has provided for me a ‘less careful' model to emulate. God gave us a world full of footballs, dog hair, and balloons to treasure; today, aim to celebrate the grit that is life, the buoyant heart that bobs up to the surface despite intimate knowledge of the human condition, the peace that passes understanding. Celebrate that Christ came, that you may, in fact, live.

And then, of course, make sure that you do.

Tara Holdren