A sentimental longing for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.
This photo, shot earlier this year in our red room, is stunning to me for two reasons.
The first is the moment it captured. Judah’s back is turned, implying I snuck in unannounced. Which I did. As if we’re spying on a private discovery-jam session. The depth of field, the lighting through the window, and the detailed simplicity all contribute to a well composed image.
The second is that this is a near perfect recreation of me…30-years ago. A different house, a different guitar (also belonging to my mother, as is the one in the shot to his mommy), and a captivating fascination with making an instrument emanate sound through simple touch.
One of the most incredible anomalies that occurs in parenting is the wonder of seeing yourself manifest – most often unannounced and uncultivated – in the lives of your children.
Reproduction isn’t just an act, it’s a process. One that creates legacy.
I can only insist through personal experience that the heavenly Father feels the same way we do. Seeing His own nature, His own character, likes, and habits suddenly appear in His children has got to be thrilling. And rewarding.
And makes Him proud. Simply because we’ve been reproduced. After Him.
The worthwhile questions to ask? “What God-traits of my Father am I exhibiting naturally?” (Because I have His nature now – 2 Peter 1:4). “How and to whom am I helping reproduce after Christ?”
The beauty of seeing myself in Judah is that I’m not looking back. I’m enjoying the moment, and looking ahead.
The danger of nostalgic emotions is letting them dupe you into believing yesterday was better than today. Yesterday could never be better than today because the beauty of the present is hidden within free will; the past has already been decided and is dated. It has neither the power nor the potential of the present.
So choose wisely. Your future nostalgia depends on it. ch: