Perspective

Yesterday one of my boys, Jabari, turned 11 years old. His birthday bucket list included a trip to the local skatepark.

As I was watching him doing ollies and wheelies and navigating reasonably steep ramps and jumps on his skateboard, I started thinking back to when he turned two.

We’d just started fostering him, and he couldn’t even walk because he was so badly malnourished.

And yet here he was, confident, coordinated, having a great time at a skate park in Australia.

Perspective is a beautiful thing and yet we don’t seem to get enough of it.

Why is that?

When we stop long enough to catch our breath and look back down the mountain, we’re often amazed at how high we’ve climbed.

What rhythms or rituals can we build into our days and weeks and years to benefit more fully from the beauty that something as simple as perspective can bring?