Since coming home from camp I have been looking at Nathan a little differently. When I look at his smiling face and see his big blue eyes, when I watch his struggle to keep those same eyes open because he has a belly full of food and a nap is calling, when I think about all of the dreams and hopes I have for him, my mind keeps thinking about other dads in other countries who are looking at their children and seeing something completely different.
I keep thinking about dads in Africa who watch as their son slowly starves, or dies from diarrhea because there is no clean water. I think of dads in India who are part of the "untouchable" caste who know that their child too will never be more than a Dalit. I think of a coffee farmer–trapped by falling coffee prices–watching his farm fall deeper and deeper in debt and knowing that he will pass that debt to his son.
I look at Nathan–look at my life–and think two things: 1) Why do I deserve such amazing blessings and 2) What can I do to help. The answer to the first question is simple–I don’t. The answer to the second question has been the same for a long time, but that is about to change.