Unfinished Stories :: Everyday Redemption

by Amber HainesJune 14, 2013

I am the only woman in the world who will see as closely as I do the young growth of my four sons: the day when one more ounce finally turned the baby 20 pounds, the day when another tied his shoes (on the wrong feet), and the day when another understood the metaphor of bread and wine. I see transforming moments every single day. I watch them in their becomings.

Motherhood will never stop teaching me how glory isn’t in a single moment. None of them were born knowing how to keep the front door shut or why it’s best to not dump spaghetti on their heads. It’s a cliché to say that we’re all in process, but it’s true that no mother or child here has arrived. Glory in parenthood is merely learning to lean toward the finish line, and it’s learning to keep on going.

Marriage, too, teaches me the same, the element of tiny everyday growth. Sometimes it’s so small that I hardly glimpse it.  The man I married almost 14 years ago isn’t the same man I know today. When we first learned to share a bed, I would have to jump up and down on the bed to wake him up for work. There was never a day he decided to wake up early to conquer the world, but now he wakes hours before the sun. I’ve watched him in a gradual awakening — to the day, to God, and to me.

It’s Father’s Day weekend, and I do have dramatic stories of how I’ve glimpsed redemption in my husband, how he has loved our four boys and me. I believe he would die for us.

But when I think of him in the context of fatherhood, it’s the smallest things that show that redemptive glint of light. Sometimes I see a boy disobey willfully. I see the reactionary grumble start to burst through Seth’s lips, but often, instead, there’s a deep breath and a pause. There’s the calm voice that comes instead of the thunder. It’s the calm voice that conjures the most respect, how big he must look to our boys and how wide his arms can wrap around.

I believe that Seth will never stop growing into fatherhood. I’m watching the slow deepening of his smile lines because of those boys. Every day since he balanced our firstborn in his arms, I’ve watched him break a little more and more. Before they even learned to do more than cry, he broke for them. His hair salts and peppers, and I think him more handsome for the breaking.

Yesterday he held one in his lap and with tears in his eyes, he explained the importance of using imagination and ingenuity to help others. Who knows if the son heard his heart, but I am writing for this Father’s Day to say that I heard it. I saw a man believing that his son could change the world. I also see a son changing the world because his father believed that he could.

A glimpse of redemption is really the exact same thing as a story unfinished. Until we’re living in the perpetual radiating light of the Father, we are called Children of Light. My husband, Seth Haines, he’s a bright one. He shines even when no earthly one is looking.

Happy Father’s Day to you daddies who do the slow growing, to you who see the flowers and know exactly how to enjoy them.

Thank you, Seth, for how you continue to break, for how you lean, how the light shines out.

[ts_fab]

5,797 Comments

  1. SimplyDarlene on June 14, 2013 at 11:18 am

    My take-away is this: “He shines even when no earthly one is looking.”

    Can people say this of me? Lord help me to answer, yes.

    Blessings.



  2. Lori Harris on June 14, 2013 at 11:42 am

    Beautiful~ A glimpse of redemption is really the exact same thing as a story unfinished. …Favorite line because I love the idea that all of this is never finished. So we keep on, keeping on… Thank you!



  3. Shelly Miller on June 14, 2013 at 11:52 am

    Glory! I’ve missed your words and I think its fitting that your silence is broken in honoring someone who shines when no earthly one is looking. I’m glad you have each other.



  4. Lisa Easterling on June 14, 2013 at 2:22 pm

    Heart-squeezingly beautiful. Thank you for these words, and for the reminder of the leaning. Our last of five is leaning on the edge of the nest and my mama heart teeters between wanting to smile her on her way and wanting to grab her by the shirttail and hang on for dear life. So for now I hang on sometimes and smile often and tell her how much I love being a mama to her and her brothers and I pray for the wisdom and courage to wave when she flies.



  5. Tanya Marlow on June 15, 2013 at 4:52 am

    I love this – the growth, the change, the glory. It has prompted me to reflect on my man, and what an amazing father he is.



  6. matt mooney on June 17, 2013 at 8:50 am

    Amber,
    Thanks for these words and your helping me with this. I’d read if you were writing about just about anything, but reading of your love for Seth is so fun.



I am the only woman in the world who will see as closely as I do the young growth of my four sons: the day when one more ounce finally turned the baby 20 pounds, the day when another tied his shoes (on the wrong feet), and the day when another understood the metaphor of bread and wine. I see transforming moments every single day. I watch them in their becomings.

Motherhood will never stop teaching me how glory isn’t in a single moment. None of them were born knowing how to keep the front door shut or why it’s best to not dump spaghetti on their heads. It’s a cliché to say that we’re all in process, but it’s true that no mother or child here has arrived. Glory in parenthood is merely learning to lean toward the finish line, and it’s learning to keep on going.

Marriage, too, teaches me the same, the element of tiny everyday growth. Sometimes it’s so small that I hardly glimpse it.  The man I married almost 14 years ago isn’t the same man I know today. When we first learned to share a bed, I would have to jump up and down on the bed to wake him up for work. There was never a day he decided to wake up early to conquer the world, but now he wakes hours before the sun. I’ve watched him in a gradual awakening — to the day, to God, and to me.

It’s Father’s Day weekend, and I do have dramatic stories of how I’ve glimpsed redemption in my husband, how he has loved our four boys and me. I believe he would die for us.

But when I think of him in the context of fatherhood, it’s the smallest things that show that redemptive glint of light. Sometimes I see a boy disobey willfully. I see the reactionary grumble start to burst through Seth’s lips, but often, instead, there’s a deep breath and a pause. There’s the calm voice that comes instead of the thunder. It’s the calm voice that conjures the most respect, how big he must look to our boys and how wide his arms can wrap around.

I believe that Seth will never stop growing into fatherhood. I’m watching the slow deepening of his smile lines because of those boys. Every day since he balanced our firstborn in his arms, I’ve watched him break a little more and more. Before they even learned to do more than cry, he broke for them. His hair salts and peppers, and I think him more handsome for the breaking.

Yesterday he held one in his lap and with tears in his eyes, he explained the importance of using imagination and ingenuity to help others. Who knows if the son heard his heart, but I am writing for this Father’s Day to say that I heard it. I saw a man believing that his son could change the world. I also see a son changing the world because his father believed that he could.

A glimpse of redemption is really the exact same thing as a story unfinished. Until we’re living in the perpetual radiating light of the Father, we are called Children of Light. My husband, Seth Haines, he’s a bright one. He shines even when no earthly one is looking.

Happy Father’s Day to you daddies who do the slow growing, to you who see the flowers and know exactly how to enjoy them.

Thank you, Seth, for how you continue to break, for how you lean, how the light shines out.

[ts_fab]

5,797 Comments

  1. SimplyDarlene on June 14, 2013 at 11:18 am

    My take-away is this: “He shines even when no earthly one is looking.”

    Can people say this of me? Lord help me to answer, yes.

    Blessings.



  2. Lori Harris on June 14, 2013 at 11:42 am

    Beautiful~ A glimpse of redemption is really the exact same thing as a story unfinished. …Favorite line because I love the idea that all of this is never finished. So we keep on, keeping on… Thank you!



  3. Shelly Miller on June 14, 2013 at 11:52 am

    Glory! I’ve missed your words and I think its fitting that your silence is broken in honoring someone who shines when no earthly one is looking. I’m glad you have each other.



  4. Lisa Easterling on June 14, 2013 at 2:22 pm

    Heart-squeezingly beautiful. Thank you for these words, and for the reminder of the leaning. Our last of five is leaning on the edge of the nest and my mama heart teeters between wanting to smile her on her way and wanting to grab her by the shirttail and hang on for dear life. So for now I hang on sometimes and smile often and tell her how much I love being a mama to her and her brothers and I pray for the wisdom and courage to wave when she flies.



  5. Tanya Marlow on June 15, 2013 at 4:52 am

    I love this – the growth, the change, the glory. It has prompted me to reflect on my man, and what an amazing father he is.



  6. matt mooney on June 17, 2013 at 8:50 am

    Amber,
    Thanks for these words and your helping me with this. I’d read if you were writing about just about anything, but reading of your love for Seth is so fun.