1. Beauty is seldom theoretical as it is personal and as proof, I look into my son’s eyes.
2. Truth us is less stated and more lived. At six months, my son doesn’t understand words, but he knows when I hold him close. At Forty-five, I understand his smile, even if he lacks words.
3. Only in facing our sin can we hope to face truth.
4. Power that uses violence is self-negating; a wolf devouring its own feet in a vain attempt at escaping. Power can only be power when affirming life. Understanding this, I realize my son is more powerful than I. He can fill a room with joy through his vulnerability.
5. Words are powerful when they are tied to reality. See my son struggle to stand up and see him learn to move his toys. Hear my son coo and shed tears. Love becomes concrete.
6. Foolishness with words is believing they cannot say what needs to be said. Foolishness with words is thinking they can say what needs to be said. Silence becomes the only responds to God, even when the sigh is too deep.
7. God hears even those words. Words broken by the heart of life.