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Thunder

September 28, 2020

“The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook.” Psalm 77:18

Seven years ago, shortly after midnight, our youngest child was born. Labor was swift; he was almost born on our bedroom floor as we waited for our babysitter to return (we’d sent her home because we’d been to the hospital a few hours earlier, and we were assured that the baby wasn’t about to be born; ahem). We had named Greta and Anders with our Nordic heritage in mind, but for baby number three we went all in: Torsten. Thor’s stone. The rock of the thunder god.

Sometimes you get what you ask for.

Torsten is loud. Noisy. Exuberant. Joyful. Nonstop. He is exactly who God made him to be. He thunders but he also lights up the world around him with unfettered joy and an impeccable sense of comedic timing. He is a joy, a gift, a sign of God’s promise. So today, Torsten, the editorial board at the Dispatch pays tribute to you. Happy birthday, little dude. Our family wouldn’t be the same without you.

May all children loudly show forth the personality God has given them. May all children shine brightly as they light up the world. And now, excuse me. It’s time for the editorial staff to eat birthday breakfast and watch Torsten Thomas tear into some gifts.

Be well, friends. You are loved.

God of life, thank you for all the children in our lives. Keep them in your care, rooted in your gospel, growing in your love. May they be loved for who they are. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Image: Torsten, eight months old, in Budapest, 2014. His first intercontinental expedition.

From → COVID-19

2 Comments
  1. Valerie Stefanic permalink

    Ahem…..funny, the bedroom floor almost 😂😂

    On Mon, Sep 28, 2020 at 6:40 AM Grace upon Grace wrote:

    > Dave Lyle posted: ” “The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your > lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook.” Psalm 77:18 > Seven years ago, shortly after midnight, our youngest child was born. Labor > was swift; he was almost born on our bedroom floo” >

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