Goodnight, my xiaobao. I’m so proud of you.
You saw, my son, the briefest If I tell you that the sky changed, that would
It amazes me that even such a small child as my glimpse of what I see every be true, but not enough.
daughter has the loving heart within her to reach second of every day, and
out and comfort a complete stranger crying on the
If I tell you that the sky bunched up, folded
you felt for just a moment
street. Moments like these make the difficulties,
in on itself, and unfurled outward once again
the weight of sadness that with a thunderous crack, that too would be
the inconveniences of raising you when you were
younger entirely worth it. In moments like these, I I have felt since the Fall. truth, incomplete though it might be.
see your mother’s radiance in you, your grandmother’s kindness.
If I tell you that I picked you up and laid you down in my
Perhaps we Christians are wrong to say that humanity is born world, you would come close to understanding, but still it
fundamentally sinful. Your mother and I have discussed this dozens of
would be insufficient.
times, and each time my doubt in human weakness grows. I know that
sin and love are not mutually exclusive and that they battle within us No matter what exactly happened, the truth is that the sky
each day, but in the face of such wonderful and surprising and beautiful you gazed upon was suddenly very different. That glimpse of
love such as yours, I can only wonder if perhaps broken humanity might striking violet was replaced with an endless canvas of gray, a
really be capable of bootstrapping itself to pre-Fall perfection. I’m really gray full of depth yet flat as a tabletop.
not sure. Either way, you’ll see these scribblings when you grow up, and
you might laugh at them, cry over them, tear them to bits and pieces, who As you stared into this grayness, it must have frustrated you
am I to say?
immensely. What kind of person would make skies so boring?
Weren’t they meant to be fascinating, ever-changing paintings
It’s getting late, and I should probably sleep. Need to wake up for church of hope? Nevertheless, there it was, leering down at you. But
tomorrow.
before you could ponder the meaning of it all for long, the sky
changed again.
In response to your questions and doubts, I decided to remind
you of the world’s fallen nature, the imperfections that still And then it was nothing but a summer thunderhead,
exist and will continue to exist until my return. And so, my foreboding darkness pierced by shards of lightning. Its weight
son, as you drifted off into sleep, I gave you a taste of my loomed over you, threatening to crush you back into the dust
perspective.
where you were suddenly so sure you belonged. When the sky
itself seems determined to leave you empty and meaningless,
In your dream, your feet carried you quietly through a forest there’s nothing left to do but cower. So cower you did, pressing
ringing with birdsong. There was a sense of that unique peace knees and body into the earth, though your eyes never left the
which comes when your thoughts alone are accompanying sky.
you.
The next sky was peaceful. A warm sheet of ochre and cocoa
Then I took control, directing your eyes to rest upon the violet and russet floated serenely overhead, and your racing heart
sky which capped it all.
began to slow. Until the next sky arrived, of course. Sky after
sky flashed by, leaving you breathless.
My son, how can you understand what happened next?
30 Spring 2020