I spent the morning painting the baby’s room, listening to the new Daughtry album and imaging how life is going to change with the presence of a new member of the family. Maybe this is what “nesting” is all about (is it still called “nesting” if Dad’s doing it?), but I really enjoy doing a simple task that allows me the space to daydream a bit and envision a better way of going through daily life. I treasure these potent moments that go beyond the scope of words. Somehow in the midst of actively painting, my thoughts come together like different puzzle pieces that fit into place and suddenly life makes a little more sense.
I think of the enormous responsibility of raising a child and it fills me with both fear and hope – a strange combination for sure, but a fitting one. It’s easy for me to worry about how fragile life is (will be the baby be healthy? what if something happens to me or my wife? what will happen then?) and seek to protect “life” without actually living it. But like all things that are worth living for, to truly be worth the devotion of one’s life, they must be worth dying for as well. In a new sense, I feel like I’m being called off the sidelines and asked to live in the midst of great risk. But the reward is greater still. Learning to give one’s life to a child is another step in the dance of Love. And I am an eager student.