This morning I can see the water spots on the window, made plain by the direct morning sunlight. It annoys me, because I cleaned that window recently. “How do they get there?” I wonder.

Then my perspective changes – twice.

First, I realize my gaze is fixed on the window itself, and on its surface. Yet the window exists to let in light and offer a view. When I focus on the spots, I miss the joy. I miss the sunbeams. I miss the sky. I miss the purpose.

Second, I realize how the spots got there. My sprinkler system has wet the top of the air conditioner, whose fan blows the water onto the window. The spots appear because my other systems are working behind the scenes. My yard is drinking; my inside environment is cooling.

Isn’t that like life? I focus on the surface – my circumstances. Good or bad, the circumstances can distract me from experiencing the joy of God’s light in my life. They can steal my focus from viewing the amazing vistas of God’s love.

They can keep me from recognizing that their very existence may be the result of a life well watered and an environment made bearable by God’s own hand. Or they can make me thankful that I have been delivered from darkness.

May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (Colossians 1:11–14)

Last night Sherry and I attended a farewell reception for one of Rebecca’s midwives. It was moving — especially when I saw pictures of Rebecca and the baby in the slide show.

But the moving I’m thinking of now has to do with big trucks and 100-degree heat. Across the street from our house, a Budget rental truck is parked in the driveway. The new couple has moved in; the previous family moved out. I’m thinking, “I am SO glad we moved LAST summer and not this one.”

Still, it’s hard to get moving out of your system. This afternoon I’m scheduled to go help another family load up a truck.

How blessed we are to have the freedom to move about freely, to make choices about our places. How easily we take it for granted. May the Lord move my heart to a place where I truly appreciate what He has given.

This ad catches my eye because a friend has asked me to speak to a small high school’s assembly tomorrow. Her son — my godson — is a student there and it’s his birthday. He is also adopted.

Birthday = “Day you entered the world.” Under God’s plan, it also means “Day you became part of a family.”

We all enter the world. But it’s a fallen world, so not every person is welcomed into his birth family. Thus:

Adoption: “Second chance to become part of a family.”

Families are important, because we derive so much from them: A name, an identity, opportunities, discipline, and an inheritance.

God has much to say about birthdays and adoption.

He tells us we are actually born dead (spiritually dead, that is). So we need to be born again (have a new birthday, born into the world of God’s Kingdom). That is possible only through Jesus Christ, who produces spiritual life where there was none, producing a new self. Doing so, the Father brings us into His everlasting family by adoption.

In that adoption, we receive the mark of God’s name, His righteous identity, His boundless opportunities (no longer bound by a sin nature), His precious discipline, and His everlasting inheritance.

“Today’s my birthday.”

Some people are still looking for a spiritual sponsor. They are lost, without a provider. They desperately need a second birthday, one that includes eternal adoption.

God actually makes it possible. Because Jesus chose to have a physical birthday, too.

I don’t spend much time at McDonald’s anymore. But there’s a new one near the house with free wifi, and a killer playground I like to frequent.

The playground has its own room – with more seating than the regular dining room. It has an amazing ambiance of white noise (plenty of noise, but none of it distinguishable and distracting). It’s excellent for reading or writing or musing.

I was reading there today, when the manager (the MANAGER) suddenly appeared near my table with a ladder. He said he noticed I was reading, and the bulb above my table was out. Frankly, I hadn’t noticed, but it did make a difference when he climbed the ladder and inspired the bulb to brilliance.

Later I noticed that manager going from table to table, bantering with the moms and dads whose kids scurried around the playground.

I expect to see meandering managers at some restaurants, but McDonald’s? And I’ve never seen a MANAGER self-tend to a light bulb he noticed that might be bothering a customer.

Think that McDonald’s will do well? Me, too. At least as long as that manager’s there. If he gets promoted to something regional or national… well, we can just say he served me well while he climbed the ladder of success.

It’s been nearly two years since I took her out. She used to hang out in the garage. But since we moved last June, she’s been in a storage unit.

“She” is our tandem bicycle. And she’s for sale.

I brought her home last week and gave her a bath. Today I rewrapped the handlebars. I think the wireless computer needs new batteries, but that’s easy. The tubes are even holding air!

Sherry and I put quite a few miles on her after I gave up road cycling. There was that organized ride when we made a sudden turn on a wet brick roadway and landed on our side. People across the street just sat on their curb and watched.

Now we live farther away from the bike path, we have less space to store her, and we no longer have a vehicle that will carry her.

Want a tandem? Come on over. She’s looking forward to finding somebody who will take her out. Soon.

Something about spring weather set Sherry to thinking about some seeds on our counter. She pulled them off a plant at a restaurant last year.

“Could you pick up some of those peat pots so I can start them?” she asked.

I was already headed out, so I dutifully stopped by the lawn and garden department at a big box next to my destination.

Checkout:

“These are cute. What are they?” the cashier asked.

“You use the them to get seeds started,” I said.

“So you put the seed in that little hole?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “And water makes it all expand so there’s room for all the roots to grow.”

“Well, what do you know?” she said.

There you go. On the job training. It’s spring!

Gravity is so commonplace that we take it for granted. We allow for it every moment of every day.

Every object within earth’s gravitational field will — without a doubt — find its ultimate resting place on the earth’s surface. It is the law of gravity.

If you are falling, you don’t truly understand it until you hit the ground. Depending on how you are prepared, the ground-meeting may be welcome (parachute) or desperate (no parachute).

As the clock struck 10:30 this morning, I realized that time bears a stunning resemblance to gravity.

Time doesn’t just “pass.” Time draws all of creation — without fail — to a final place. It is the law of God, and time’s ultimate destination is God Himself. It is a gravity of moments, and we are all falling through it.

We won’t fully understand this until it ultimately brings us face to face with God. Depending on how you are prepared, the God-meeting may be welcome (parachute) or desperate (no parachute).

Since I started this, I am several minutes closer to meeting God face to face. So are you.

“Many of you have waited nine months for this moment — Drum Roll Please — I’m here to announce that Connor James Branch has officially been born. He’s a whopper at 9 pounds 14 ounces and is 20 ½ inches long.”

That was Terence’s blog post on March 4, 2010 — his second-ever post on Becky’s blog (www.terenceandbecky.com), which has quite a following out there in Mothers-To-Be Land.

This is a real milestone for our oldest child and his wife, who have waited a long time for this moment. When they married, Terence was in the military, and they agreed that wasn’t the best place to start a family. After his term was up, he jumped into finishing his college degree. Then they moved down here and moved in with us, during which time he completed an MBA. (Meanwhile, she so wanted children! And they weren’t even sure she could, based on some medical issues.)

Terence took a job over in Dallas County, so they moved an hour away. (I know. “Dallas.” But how will they ever get better over there unless people from Fort Worth go over and show them how?) Then… “Hey, we’re pregnant!”

We rejoiced with them then, and rejoice with them now! Last fall they realized another one of Becky’s dreams, moving in to their own house.

House. Family. It’s all starting to fall in to place.

Their day was a little different than my previous post with Joel and Rebecca.

Several days overdue, Baby Connor had still not dropped. Becky was really tired of not being able to breathe. (Did you note the size of this kid? If not, go back and reread the first paragraph.)

So Dr. Tatum scheduled her for a c-section at noon. Dr. Tatum is the fellow who also delivered Rebecca nearly 20 years ago.

Becky’s mother and grandmother were able to come down from Arkansas; Terence’s grandfather, grandmother and aunt were able to organize visits; and Sherry and I knew just where to be when. Baylor All Saints is a wonderful facility, with wonderfully attentive staff. Everything pretty much happened right on schedule.

Terence came ready to camp out for several days. I’m not sure I would be ready to join my wife for a c-section, but Terence came through fine. Apparently there’s a sheet/curtain thing to block the view for those of us who don’t care too much for watching surgeries, but still allowed him to see the baby be lifted up. For some reason, that reminded Terence and me of the time I snipped my thumb with some pruners, and I had to take him with me to the place where they put in the stitches.

Well, I’m glad I still have that thumb now, so I can give Terence and Becky a hearty thumbs-up! May their little(?) Connor grow up to do big things, and may He quickly come to know the God who made him, and express His glory.

Yesterday began at 5:30 a.m. with an alarming text from our Rebecca to Sherry. Several days past her due date, Rebecca was now saying, “I think we’re going to have a baby today.” Joel was already at work, so Rebecca was alone.

I was already dressed, so I went to pick her up. By 9:30 we were at the birthing center, 30 minutes south of our house. Between contractions, Rebecca was delighted to know that she could someday recount that her father had actually cut through a corner parking lot, cruised through a red light, and passed some slow cars using a convenient left turn lane. Her father will, in all likelihood, deny it because everybody knows he is a law abiding citizen.

The birthing center is a tranquil place, to be sure. I can see why expectant mothers would like it there: An updated older home, open and airy, immaculately clean, with soft music and a large screen with videos of large saltwater fish. A caring place.

Our midwife friends and caretakers there gathered around Rebecca with words of reassurance and encouragement. I prayed for her. We took a picture of her with Sherry and our midwives, Melody and Venessa. Soon Joel arrived, along with his mother and one of his sisters.

I found a soft couch downstairs. The others headed upstairs as Rebecca became more aware that Arielle was on her way.

Sherry’s local family, Loyce and Mama, arrived late morning, and we camped out downstairs together. Early afternoon arrived, and Loyce took orders for lunch and ran out to Jack in the Box. By the time she returned, the upstairs crowd was too busy to eat.

At 2:19 p.m., Melody came down the stairs just far enough and long enough to give us 2 thumbs-up and say, “Yes, she’s a girl!”

We didn’t know when they would let Rebecca come home, but we had a group scheduled to be at our house last night. We gave them a code to enter the house through the garage. As we finally headed to Rebecca’s house about 7:30, my phone rang. One of the guys at our house said the security alarm company was calling and leaving messages and “What should we do?”

This seemed odd. We knew we had not even set the security alarm, so figured it would all work out OK. Then the guy called back. “Uh, there are some police at the front door.” Finally, the police just took down some info and left. I mean, how many burglary rings include a half dozen couples with small children? The fire truck left, as well.

When Sherry finally got through to the alarm company, they said they had received “multiple alarms” from our residence, including trespassing, medical and fire. We have no idea what happened.

We’re glad the home alarm was false. We’re glad that Rebecca’s alarm was true.

We welcome Arielle Catherine Christopherson into the world. May the Lord bless her and keep her, may He make His face to shine upon her, and may she find a peace that passes all understanding in His life.

Any day now. That’s what they keep saying about the births of little Connor and little Arielle.

Daughter Rebecca’s “Arielle” and daughter-in-law Becky’s “Connor” were due one day apart — yesterday and today.

So far, nothing except some very uncomfortable mothers-to-be.

Two weeks ago — you remember the day of the Big Snow and threat of frozen roadways? The day before that, the midwife told Rebecca “could be today or tomorrow.” We flew into high alert.

No baby. Interesting how you begin to lose your “high alert” over time. Today we’re closer to a delivery, and probably less on-edge than we were during those snow days. Human nature is an odd thing. We absolutely know the delivery day is coming, but we lose the edge.

It reminds me of another event very much like that. Christ tell us He will return, and His word is sure. He tells us there will be signs like earthquakes, wars, and rumors of war, yet He does not tell us the precise day. Perhaps those signs are to remind us to stay on-edge, and waste no time until He appears.

Rebecca and Becky will deliver children into the world. Christ will deliver us out of it. Both events are assured. They should both keep us ever-ready and vigilant. Pray we do so.