My father-in-law has a fitting nickname: Lifter. Two years ago John and I went to Tobago to speak at a pastor's conference (rough, I know). My in-laws graciously agreed to watch Sam. My father-in-law is the one with the stronger back, and so whenever Sam needed to be lifted from his crib or highchair his grandma would say, "Let's call the Lifter-Man."
I saw my father-in-law yesterday. This is only odd because he lives in Indiana and I'm currently in Iowa. I was in the middle of changing Clara's diaper when I happened to look outside and catch a glimpse of a man.
"Hey! That man looks like Keith," I thought to myself while resuming diaper duties. A split second later I remembered my father-in-law's personality and thought, "Wait a minute, I'll bet that IS Keith."
So I finished my job and started towards my door. Sure enough. It was Keith.
"I'm just stopping by to pray for you," he said. And he did.
This is the kind of person my father-in-law is. He had something going on in the Dakotas, saw I was an hour out of his way, and on a whim stopped by for all of five minutes. Simply to pray and hug his grandkids.
Maybe I'll start calling him "Lifter", too.