I heard his little voice from across the parking lot.
One of the families who lives and works at camp has four kids- and the two boys in particular, well, they really like to follow my husband around.
The boy sprints across the gravel toward the golf cart; a wooden sword, pushed under his tiny little belt, knocking against his knee as he runs.
It's not an uncommon sight, anymore- one or both of these little men typically "work maint'nence" a few afternoons a week- but it catches me every time. Takes my own breath away a little.
They love it- all the golf cart rides and walking around, but also the stick-picking and the nuts-and-bolts organizing. Sometimes, when their parents call them, they huff a little before moping home.
I love it, too: watching their eyes light up as he smiles down at them, how these little men square up their shoulders and stand a little taller when they're "working maintenance."
And I love watching him, too- how my husband takes the physical safety of these little boys so seriously, but even more so, how he takes their innate maleness seriously.
It does my heart good to watch Trevor working with his little tag-along friends.
I love him more for it- for his patience, for his sense of humor, for his love of these little boys.
I love Him for it, too- for giving me these small moments, little glimpses of goodness and rightness and kingdom-ness. God is good, all the time.
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