When I consider people I admire at church, most often they’re in silence, rather solemn, or at least in concentration. They have their hands folded, they stand, they prostrate, they take it seriously, and they seem concentrated. That seems the right way to be, concentrated on God and communion with Him.

I myself spend almost the entirety of my time at church concentrated on Roby. Abby’s in the choir, so it’s just Roby and me hanging out amongst the pews, and boy oh boy, she is trouble. Not in a serious way, but in a very consistent way. She’ll climb on the pew and dow, she’ll try blowing out candles, she’ll dance around because she likes the sound the pews make when they slam into the wall (from her dancing). She’ll sing in the quiet parts and climb between my legs or between me and the pew because she likes the squeeze, but not if it’s too much or too little, it’s gotta be the right amount of squeeze. She’ll want to be picked up, she’ll want to be put down, she’ll want Mom or Debbie’s bracelet. She wants to draw, she wants to sit on a chair.

It’s never anything that crazy, but I can’t really take my eye off of her.

So what I try to do is to focus on the part of her that is Divine, the part of her that is a gift from the divine. The part of her that in this moment I will look back at with incredible tenderness years from now, or even just a few days from now.

It’s not hard to do.

Robinia has been the single most clear, decisive, inspiring, and beautiful gift I’ve received in my life. The responsibility of her and the treasure of being a witness to her is more than a man can bear at times. What a treasure, what an insight, what a lesson.