My Kairos moment happened on our evening walk. We live in a cute little community with houses knit closely together; the type of neighborhood where neighbors could practically reach out their facing windows and shake hands if it weren’t for the driveway that separated them. With the proximity of our homes, I know that a baby’s cry can be heard with even a house distance in between.
We weaved in and out of the many streets that constitute our neighborhood and decided to walk through the cemetery on the corner. It is a peaceful space where often we see joggers and bicyclists keeping pace on the winding roads among the deceased. This evening we saw a man pushing a stroller toward us. As we got closer, we nodded and said a congenial hello and he did the same, but his hello was different than ours. His hello popped out of the song he was singing to his little baby girl. What I noticed about this tiny little child was the oxygen tubes sticking in her nostrils and the cords winding down around her mouth underneath some pudgy little cheeks that looked both pink and pinchable.
God invited me into the life of this man and his daughter for just a moment in time. The snippet of their lives that I witnessed was so moving. Perhaps she was fidgety and crying in their house and through his experience caring for her, he found that taking her for a walk and singing to her calmed her down. If that was the case, it worked; she looked content with her daddy. Sometimes all we need is our daddy.
Matthew 11:28 (NIV)
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.