Our New Governmental System

Of course by government, I mean the ruling policies that give structure to my own upstart of a nuclear family.  If you recall, George, Joanna and I have some company on the way that we're expecting to drop by in the later parts of August...

As part of the process, several weeks ago Jo and I had our "Half-way Appointment" with her doctor.  It was time for another ultrasound.  Seeing for the first time what actually looked like a baby; kicking, squirming, and very much alive, we experienced a new revelation of all we'd gotten ourselves into!  Classically, this is the ultrasound where you find out if you're having a boy or girl - but we had a unique thought in mind - and looked away when the tech told us she was heading in the down there direction.

The next day we returned home after the final performance of the Thorn in Colorado Springs.  Jo's parents were in town, and we all headed over to my parents home for a party of epic proportions.  Up until that point, we knew we were pregnant, but hadn't seen the baby in months.  Our viewing several months prior had looked something like a gummy bear.  As you can imagine, this left us expectant for something more defined - hoping that we'd see little hands and feet, and something that was more... human!

We did indeed!  "It" was healthy, with spine, bones, toes, even a nose (that bears striking resemblance to Joanna's) and yes (the tech could tell), a something (or lack thereof).

We delivered the result to the local Whole Foods Bakery, who made us ten delicious canolli's filled with either Raspberries or Blueberries for a girl or boy, respectively.  They messed up our order a bit, but you can read about that here.  That night my Grandma picked the number between 1 and 20, and took the first bite. 

RASPBERRIES.

In the words of Neo from the Matrix, "Whoa."

It wasn't that I expected a boy, but somehow I didn't expect a girl!  It was a rough first few days as I let go of fears that she wouldn't be shaped by our personalities, wouldn't be affected by my love of the outdoors, and wouldn't even want to play with her boring old Dad!  Thanks to Jo for her patient and enthusiastic approach to walking me through this I've arrived at a place where now I can't wait to meet this little wonderkid, can't wait to love her as best I can.

Her little life has taken on whole new meaning.  All the names we had thought were cute, we had to rethink - after all, this is an immortal soul!  This little girl will want to dance on my toes, play with dolls, and who knows what else!  Although I had a sister - it's not like I paid attention to all that stuff!  Raspberries meant that certainly, I would someday clean a shotgun in front of some punk kid who thinks he's got what it takes to date her, that one day I'd walk her down the aisle to give her to someone else... and that someday far, far away, she may bring over a little youngin' to bounce on my knee.

Here's to you kiddo.  Got a couple things: promise you'll ride on my shoulders on hikes, let me teach you how to play with legos, and fly a kite with me every so often?  Maybe we can play catch some too, watch fun Disney movies I've saved up, and play house with your Mom?  And even though I have two left feet - let me dance with you in the hallway with PJ's on, and waltz with you in my tux the day you wear your big white dress?  Figured I'd at least ask.  :)

"...Well George, it's becoming more of a democracy than I think we saw coming, guys gotta stick together..."

Attachment

Yesterday afternoon I had coffee with a student from the New Life School of Worship, a program based out of my church that trains people how to biblically, and lovingly lead others in worship of their God.  It's a program I have directed for the last 18 months.  As we talked about his new job at a church in Pennsylvania, and his impending move away from Colorado, something started to feel strange in my heart.  I began to experience a certain heaviness, a sense that a piece of my life was leaving, or at least that somehow something wasn't right.

Later I discovered the truth, having analyzed the complex amalgam of emotion; I realized it boiled down to sadness.

It seemed just yesterday I was talking in my office with this young guy and his Mom, trying to help him decide if the NLSW was even the place for him to come and spend a year of his life.  Now, having come, he is preparing to leave - to another fresh start, a place of service.  He is going off to do "in real life" what he spent a year learning to do here.  It's a success for him, and for the program!  We accomplished what we hoped to do; he experienced what I hoped he would.  Now he's got a date of departure.  And that's SAD!

I've been thinking about my position over the last few weeks and months, and observing the true oddness of it.  From a pastoral point of view, it's a unique and surprisingly taxing situation.  It's as if I pastor a congregation of 60 people that I handpick, invest my life into, and send away every 9 months having already begun the process again with a new batch of hopefuls.  Then I take 3 months off and bask in the Colorado sunshine (no, not exactly) only to begin the process again the next fall.

Weird.

And he's not the only one.  This year we've been blessed to have a truly stellar group of 1st and 2nd year students.  They come from all walks of life, with generational differences and various goals for this next season.  But as I watch them leave, something is clicking in me in a way it hasn't in years past (sorry previous NLSW classes!).  I'm attached.  And weird though it may be, it's something I think I should begin to get used to - with a baby girl on the way.  Parenthood.  Aside from a killer show on NBC, it's something that I'm realizing will slowly take away pieces of me - and this before my first child is even born!

To say I see this year of graduates as my children would be both incomplete and impossible.  Many of them are my elders, and I eclipse the youngest by 10 years at most!  But certainly, this year has helped me understand a wonderful part of life - in parenting and otherwise.  Despite the discomfort and unnatural feeling of their immanent departure, I'm experiencing a taste of what it means to have invested myself in something and see the dividend going to another cause.  Someone else will be the beneficiary.

Sheesh it's weird.  And actually it does feel quite right somehow.

Students - just promise to call every so often!