Babies and Wishes and Prayers

I guess most people know that my wife and I are having a baby here soon. Her name is Maeve and she will be the greatest little thing that has ever happened to us. Eight months ago when Mel told me that we were having a baby,  I felt overwhelmed with joy and excitement, like a balloon stretched to thin limits. 


Having a baby allows for lots of times of retrospection and forecasting. I have thought about my childhood, my growing up. I have looked at the lives of my kids and wondered how they have become the way they are, both good and bad. We think about the ways we will schedule, feed, discipline. I have picked out about a thousand little bands with flowers hot-glued to them for her to wear.  It is hard to not think about what she will look like, what talents she will have, to wonder what things she will be curious about and want to pursue.  I mean will she be able to "cat daddy" or only "dougie"? These are serious things to wonder about.


But beyond all of that, I think I have wished and prayed that my little Maeve will be a better person than I am.  I would think (hope) this is a common thing for parents. I mean, I am sure most parents want more for their child, hope more for them.   We have been reading Crazy Love in my Sunday School class. In that book, Francis Chan talks a lot about what it means to love--to love god, to love other people. There is this quote in chapter 5 from Henri Nouwen:


 “It is hard to bear that people stand still along the way, lose heart, and seek their happiness in little pleasures which they cling to—you feel sad about all that self-indulgence and self-satisfaction, for you know with an indestructible certainty that something greater is coming.”  


I know I cling to little "indulgences." I have used pizza as band aid for anger. I have used porn as a pill for lonlieness. I have used insults as a mask for insecurity.  And I have felt the sadness from knowing I am missing the something more. That little empty space where a laugh is ended with a tiny, gentle sigh. Or that moment as the YouTube video stops and before I take a breath, that I feel the tiny pang of a finger tapping my heart, making me wonder if there is something more to fill up the time that I waste.


So I prayed today that my daughter would not give into these illusions . I prayed that she would know the fullness of the purpose of a loving god.  (Not that I don't think YouTube videos have their place, but they cannot become a salve for perpetual restlessness, just like liquor can't, nor weed, you get the idea)  Just like I have prayed for her everyday that she will be a better person than me. I have prayed that she will be nicer than me. That she will love God more than I have. That she will not struggle with her emotions like I did for most of my growing up. That she will know herself well, earlier than I finally accepted and knew myself. That she won't long to fit in like I always have. That being witty won't lead to being hateful. I prayed that she would love God more than she loves me and Melly-- that she would know him intimately.


And I am sure people (in trying to be nice) would say that I am a nice person, that I am not rude, etc. But my friends no otherwise and I do too. 


I would be lying if I said I didn't hope for things like, Maeve being a lefty so she would have a natural advantage at tennis, or her having long fingers so she could play the mandolin or guitar easily. But I have earnestly sought the lord in praying for his blessings on her, in praying that his breath has been woven into her heart already, that the words of Christ have been stirred with his finger into her soul. Prayed that I will be equipped to be stronger, more faithful, more disciplined than I thought possible, so that I (and Mel) can be good stewards of this precious little life we have been entrusted with.