Ripples

Dear God,

The older I get, the more I wonder if any moment in our lives is ever really isolated.

I've been trying to understand the life You've given me. Not because I expect You to explain everything, but because every time I bring You another question, I seem to walk away understanding a little more than I did before. Maybe that's why I keep asking.

Lately I've been noticing how much people affect each other. A conversation. An act of kindness. A careless comment. Even someone we only meet once. Those moments don't just disappear. Somehow they stay with us.

There is one moment from my childhood that I've thought about for years.

My dad was dropping me off after one of our visits. It was dark. We said goodbye, and I saw one tear roll down his face.

When I was little, I just knew I was sad to leave.

Now I wonder what that drive home was like for him.

It's funny how one tear can teach a grown man something a little boy couldn't understand.

That makes me wonder how many other moments I've misunderstood.

My parents' divorce hurt. I never would've chosen it then.

I'd choose it now.

That still feels strange to say.

Not because divorce is good. It isn't.

Because You didn't waste it.

You used it to teach me how important it is to be there for my daughters. You helped me understand my dad in ways I couldn't have back then. You taught me that relationships are worth fighting for. The pain was real, but it wasn't wasted.

Then another question came to mind.

How many people have shaped me without ever knowing it? How many words have stayed with me long after the person who spoke them forgot they ever said them? How many decisions made by complete strangers somehow became part of my story?

Then I realized that's only half the question.

How many people have I shaped without realizing it? Have I encouraged someone who needed it? Have I discouraged someone without meaning to? Have I walked away from what felt like an ordinary conversation while You were doing something much bigger?

I even think about Judas sometimes.

Not because I question what he did. I know Your plan would've happened exactly the way it needed to.

I just wonder what might have happened if he'd come looking for forgiveness instead of giving in to despair.

Maybe I wonder because it reminds me that every choice sends out ripples.

About the time I wrote that down, I realized You'd been answering my question all along.

Not with a voice from heaven.

Through relationship and conversation.

That's how You've been teaching me all this time.

You created us for relationship.

First with You.

Then with each other.

Maybe that's why our lives overlap the way they do.

Maybe You've never asked me to understand every connection.

Maybe You've simply asked me to care for the relationships You've placed in front of me. To love well. To really listen. To tell the truth. To forgive. To show up.

I started this letter wondering if any moment in our lives is ever really isolated.

I don't think they are.

Every moment I spend with You, whether I'm writing, reading, talking with someone, or simply noticing Your beautiful design, helps me understand a little more and brings me closer to You.

Thank You for another conversation.

Your son