A Healthy Iris

Yali’s first visit to church involved more tears than smiles. I mean, when you can’t have your own bulletin and you can’t taste the communion bread, life begins to look a little bleak. That’s just the way it is.

The smiles came later in the afternoon during lunch. Food usually inspires dimples. So does a waiting audience of aunts and uncles, including a couple of uncles who don’t mind getting beat up by little baby fists and little baby feet. That kid can pack a punch though. I’ve already experienced it first hand.

Meanwhile Puck, not to be outdone in being in a boy by his younger brother, could be seen on the other side of the living room eating Captain Crunch through a snorkel.

“Goldilocks” (aka “Joy Bus II”) was waiting for another drive down the river road that afternoon. Only Joe and Jaya couldn’t join the party this time.

On the way, Carrie explained her recent research into “iridology” and the theory of healthy irises. She had already snapped close-up photos of all our irises. Turns out Francis was the only one with issues.

“You have huge fissures in your eye,” Carrie told him.

I think we blamed it on his steady diet of fast-food cheeseburgers. Francis just grinned.

We ended our drive with an order placed into Cecil Whittaker’s pizza. I think all of our eye fissures deepened slightly after the meal.

“Goodnight, Yali,” Puck told him as I carried him back to bed that night. “You’re the best little brother in the world!”

“Come pray with us, Puck.”

He crawled into bed with Yali and gave him a hug. Both boys folded their hands for the prayer. Puck added his own at the end.

“…thank you for my baby brother in Colombia. I mean … I’m very gladful that we finally got my brother. After six years’ suspense.”

“…with respect to the saints, there will be no happiness too much for them. God won’t begrudge anything as too good for them. There will be no restraint to his love, no restraint to their enjoyment of himself; nothing will be too full, too inward and intimate for them to be admitted to.” – Jonathan Edwards, on the joy of Heaven