There was a man who had two sons...

There was a man who had two sons.

One morning Father sat in his favorite chair and watched with love as First Son walked into the room. Without speaking a word, he took a seat next to Father, picked up a book Father had written about himself and began to read.

First Son read for a bit, checked his watch, thumbed through the pages, marked the end goal, rubbed his eyes, and kept reading.

Father watched from a few feet away.

Father spoke. First Son shifted in his seat but went back to reading.

Father tickled his side, but First Son moved away and continued reading.

Father said his name, First Son squared his shoulders and read on.

Father looked at First Son with longing, but First Son never acknowledged that Father was right there in the room, watching and waiting.

Just then, Father heard a loud noise as Second Son crashed through the door. He caught Father's eye and ran to him, throwing himself into Father's arms. He wrapped his arms around Father's neck, kissed his cheek, and said, “Father, I don’t have time to sit and visit today. I have a crazy day and a lot to do. Wanna come to work with me? I remember something I read last week that I want to talk to you about.”

Without waiting for an answer—because he knew it was his Father's joy to be involved in his life—Second Son hurried out the door to start his day.

Father smiled, glanced longingly at First Son, then followed Second Son into his day.

Which son is enjoying the Father's company?

The one who sat down and read a book about him?

Or the one who came running to his dad, slammed into him with love, and then invited him into his ordinary day?