I was at my parents’ house, visiting for the day. Standing at the kitchen counter, I poured myself a steaming cup of herbal tea. Afternoon teatime was a tradition for the two of them. Nothing fancy or formal. They just sat down together for a cup. When I was at their house, I joined them.
Stirring some honey into my tea, I reflected on how grateful I was that my children had gotten to grow up witnessing Dad’s strong faith, as I had. He just quietly showed me what faith in God looked like.
