hood

So we are half-way through the expectancy.

(I am glad there are 40 weeks to pregnancy. Finding out you are pregnant and having a baby the next week would scare the living daylights out of me ((living daylights? where does that phrase come from? I'm not just making that up, am I? that's a real phrase, right?)). It gives you plenty of time to get ready (((is there such a thing as being ready for a baby?))))

Fatherhood is blowing my mind a little bit. What traits will I pass down to my child?

Luckily, Whit will moderate whatever craziness I send down the line.

Here was my reaction, roughly in chronological order:

a. wow.

b. wow.

c. wow.

d. what are we going to do?

e. wow.

Exactly how are you suppose to raise a child in the world if you don't have it all together? I guess everyone does it though, because honestly, who actually has it all together?

Then I realized that Whit and I are a good team. We are complementary (you look lovely). Our little baby is going to have an incredible range of influences to become the most well-rounded individual in history. (Is it strange that I am already bragging on / am swelling with pride for my baby, who is currently weighing in around half a pound?)

I feel like it is normal for expectant fathers to be nervous about being 1/2 of the biggest influence on a child. I suppose teaching has helped me be prepared to influence the future through molding the minds of children, but I feel a little more responsibility for my little one. Teaching juniors and seniors, they already have a lot of molding under their belts, so its not quite as much pressure.

I think I can handle it. I can teach my baby how to love music, how to love family, how to love nature, how to love its moma. (just noticed a theme.)

Maybe the most important thing I can do is teach my baby to love.

I think I'm good at that.

I've got this.

mr. withers

I attended a mission trip somewhere around a millennium ago that discussed the word righteousness.

The speaker suggested that the correct pronunciation of the word was "right-usefulness."

The idea here is that when we are doing what we were designed to do, it's a good thing. We are being used for the right thing.

Tasks are much easier and more fulfilling when you have the right tools for the job. Eating soup with a fork is difficult and unsatisfying, because the fork is not being rightly-used. A spoon would be happy to help. But a spoon would be useless in cutting lumber. A skilsaw would come in handy though.

I am a husband and a teacher and a friend and a brother and a son and an uncle and a father to three furry animals. I get the feeling every now and then that things are exactly as they are supposed to be; that I am doing what I am supposed to do. There is a contentedness that comes along with that, but content is too subtle a term; its an excited content, an exhilarating peace with my life.

This weekend I watched the first class from my first year teaching walk across a stage and graduate. Next weekend I will watch a group of young men and women I taught for two whole years graduate. Seeing the change and watching them grow and learn, and feeling partially responsible for that, creates an amazing feeling.

There was an art installation in Tolliver Hall that said

"every raindrop in a flood feels responsible."

I feel incredible knowing that I played some small part in the education, inspiration and lives of my students. It fulfills me.

Waking up next to my wife everyday and smiling, spending time with good friends, talking to my family, watching my nephews and nieces grow, and being greeting every afternoon by the most excited dog in the world lets me know that I am at least coming close to what I am supposed to be doing.

Life is happily great when you find you are doing what you are designed to do; when you are righteous; when you are rightly-used.

And I want to spread the news: If it feels this good getting used, keep on using me until you use me up.