In the margin of my old Bible, I have written next to Proverbs 31:10, "I can. June 23, 2007." Yet with each passing day of the last month, I have become more keenly aware of how blessed I truly am to have Cami as my wife. Beginning with her labor and delivery and continuing to this very day I have seen a quiet strength emerge in her life that I never really witnessed before. A strength that is gentle and calm, patient and steadfast, and filled with a glowing sense of joy. I said after Karis was born, "Never have I been so proud of Cami." And yet with each passing day, as I watch Cami care for and nurture Karis, I am forced to echo the same statement I made thirty days ago.
After two Sundays of not being able to go to church, Cami, Karis and I finally made our way to Clifton Baptist Church on July 8th. For days leading up to that Sunday, Cami and I would talk with one another about how excited we were to be going to church. And, even though Karis slept poorly that Saturday night, we were filled with anticipation as we packed up the car and made the twenty minute drive. In the end, those one hundred and fifteen minutes from 10:45am to 12:30pm were an absolute joy. Our hearts stirred by the singing of hymns and songs to our Savior. Our souls fed by the Word of God read, prayed and preached. Our conversation lively as we recounted how the Holy Spirit had ministered to us in particular ways that morning. And then I began to reflect: Should that not be my experience every Sunday? Should I not be that full of anticipation at every opportunity I get to gather together with God's people? Should I not be that passionate, attentive and eager sing, learn, fellowship and reflect?
One of the greatest blessings about this past month has been the overflow of love and care that our family by blood and our family in Christ has shown us. Both sets of parents were incredibly helpful in cooking for us, cleaning for us, taking care of our two monstrous dogs and watching Karis for spells so we could sleep and even go out on a couple of dates. Moreover, there was a genuine joy in their countenance as they held, rocked, talked to, read to and smothered Karis with kisses. Yet the world typically expects that type of love and care among those related by blood. What the world cannot explain is the outpouring of love and care that the body of Christ has shown us these past thirty days. Phone calls, text messages, visits at the hospital and at home, incredible meals, genuine concern for both Karis and us, and fervent prayers offered up in private and with hands laid upon our shoulders. I thank God for the ways in which His body extends His hands of care at these key junctures in life!
Someone asked me a few weeks before Karis was born, "What are you looking forward to the most about Karis being born?" After a brief pause I answered, "I just want to meet her and hold her in my arms." Little did I know how joyous that simple act would be. Over these past four weeks, I have found so much pleasure in the little things. I love it when she wraps her little hands in a vice-like grip around my fingers. I love kissing her little feet and tickling them with my fingernail to keep her awake while she's feeding. I love holding her on my chest after I shower. I love kissing her on the head every time I pick her up, even if she's crying up a storm and thrashing about because she's hungry. I love holding her right before her bedtime and singing the Gospel Song to her with Cami. I love calming her when she's fussy in the middle of the night as I pray for her, her mother, her future friends and even, Lord-willing, her future husband. At one month Karis really doesn't do much. Ninety percent of her day is spent sleeping, eating and letting us know that she wants to sleep or eat. And part of me wants to live for the future -- when she'll smile and laugh, when she'll sleep through the night, when she'll sit up on her own, when she'll say "Daddy" for the first time. But the other part of me realizes: there is a treasure chest of joy, right here and right now, especially in the little things.
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