Yesterday I sat in the wooden fort in our backyard woods with my 3-year-old grand-daughter sipping imaginary tea and riding in an imaginary car to Target. Her enthusiastic play was God-like in its wisdom. And she would play this way for a very long time without tiring. Again and again. It was only I, in my intolerance for repetition, that smooth-talked her down from the fort to find similar joy in the swing.

My crawling grandson clambered off the picnic blanket from my wife, son, and daughter-in-law as they enjoyed the pleasant afternoon and conversation, only to be lifted back on to the middle portion of the blanket, where he would re-engage his mission without the slightest discouragement. His fascination was to reach the grass where he could lay hold of those brown oak leaves that stood out starkly and temptingly against the green field – perfectly sized and weighted for grasping by his little hand and tasting by his tongue. Again and again.

Hugo in this chapter refers to Fantine’s love which is wisdom by Solomon’s judgment, “for it was a first, an only, a faithful love.” I think this truth is what Chesterton referred to in Orthodoxy as he discussed the God-like capacity for persistent glorying in the christening of each new day in a sunrise. Again and again.

Let me engage in glorifying you again, without the distraction of a pragmatic agenda and schedule, to see your smiling eyes and to trust in your goodness and provision.

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