I look at Karina and Angie now as moms who are in their thirties—the mothers of my grandsons—and I am just delighted to see their hearts for Christ and the ways God has gifted them.

This year in October (2009), it will be twenty-eight years since my mom died of cancer. Our Angela was only four months old then, so while Mom held Angie and fawned over her and loved her dearly, Angie wasn't old enough yet to understand what had happened. 

Fatherhood's an incredible privilege, one we should thank God for every day, but which too easily we grow accustomed to and take for granted and, if we're not careful, occasionally resent. (For instance, after weeks without having a good sleep.)

This was our first Christmas with family numbered in double digits. Nanci and I are deeply grateful for our wonderful daughters, our awesome sons-in-law and our four priceless grandsons. Including Jack, little Santa.  

Here’s a photo I took Saturday on Mount Lassen, at about 7,000 feet. The lake, the flowers, the sky—beauty popping up out of barrenness, all declaring God’s glory.