Raising men
Some might argue that I’m selfish to take him along on these adventures—that they offer him little. But I wholeheartedly disagree. As I watch my son explore these ancient Nabatean ruins, I see that he’s learning lessons that will be of great value to him later in life. That the best playthings are those powered only by imagination. That true communication requires a little patience. That family is universal—even when it comes in a Bedouin cave-home instead of a suburban split-level. That people, no matter which God they worship, are more similar than different. These lessons seem even more essential, given his father’s chosen profession.
