Your First of Many

I don’t even know your name. And yet I feel nothing but love for you. A love so profound and so complete and so overwhelming that it has kept me up, into the early hours of this January morning, writing to you. Your first letter. Your first of many.

Whoever you are, whoever you become, you have my heart and my love and my support and whatever else you need all the days of my life. My love for you is deep and wide and greater than I will ever be able to explain or prove in a single sentence or action. Even in the times when you may think I am frustrated with you. Angry or disappointed. With or without reason. Even then I will love you. I will always love you. Whoever you are. Whoever you become. Not just because I am supposed to do so. Not just because I will force myself to do so.

Because I will not be able to help myself.

I will love you and love you and love you with all of me. I want you to know my love and feel my love and believe my love every day of your life. I want you to know and feel and believe that I am here for you anytime you need or just want me nearby. I want you to know and feel and believe that I would do anything for you. Anything. Including sacrifice my own life.

As I told you. It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. But all I can do is sit on my couch in the stillness and soft dark of night, thinking of you. Imagining. Praying. Writing more. I love you so much already. So undeniably. So uncontrollably. So inexplicably.

And all for a child I have not yet even met. For a child whose name I do not even know. For you. My firstborn.

The Beginning

“Congratulations!” “We’re so excited for you!” “Are you thrilled?” Wow, it seems as if I just heard all those comments, only in reference to my wedding, three short months ago. But here Jonathan and I are again, hearing such familiar words. Only now they are referring to “the baby.”

Yes, as many of you already know... I’m pregnant... We’re pregnant. Three months in and already a bun in the oven. Scared? Of course. Overjoyed? Absolutely. Nauseous? Periodically throughout the day. Tired? All the stinkin’ time.

The story itself is funny. It suits Jonathan and me. It seems fitting that we would be pregnant so soon. Neither of us are “slow movers,” Jonathan even more so, and pardon the crassness, but neither are his sperm.

I took seven pregnancy tests (yes, seven). The first four read yes, no, yes, no. “Hmmm. Do I tell him now or wait 'till I know for sure. I can’t be pregnant. I’m not pregnant. That flip my stomach keeps doing is just the flu going around... no big deal. Just relax... your period is right around the corner.”

Last Monday, I spent thirty minutes at work feeling completely sick to my stomach. I was leaning against the wall drinking gingerale when one of my co-workers asked me jokingly, “Are you farther along than you think?” “Ha, ha,” I chuckled. “Farther along? Farther along than what? I am NOT pregnant.” That night, Jonathan and I agreed to buy a box of three tests, just to be sure either way. Two minutes after peeing on a stick, a bright solid blue + sign appeared. A + sign is positive. Positive is yes. Yes is “baby on board.” I stared at the stick sitting on the bathroom counter, blank faced, jaw wide open. In a flash, as the fuzzy blue lines became the crisp symbol of things ahead, a thousand thoughts flashed through my mind. “Getting fat, swollen ankles, breastfeeding, no more sleep, staying home, strollers, I’m not ready... I’m too young... labor... AHH... labor pains... we’ve only been married a few months... contractions!!!... Getting fat... we can’t afford this... how is this possible... nine months, remember, he/she won’t be here for 9 months... wow... whoa... I feel sick... thank You Lord... You think we’re ready... I’m scared... but thank You... thank You... thank You...” Meanwhile, Jonathan is running around the house in his boxers, jumping on the bed, screaming, woohooing, proclaiming “I'm gonna be a dad!”

It hasn’t all sunk in, and it probably won’t until we see our baby’s shining face. Even then we might be a little awe struck. We probably will be. But this gift is amazing. God gives more than we deserve, more than we hope for, or even know to hope for. Our Abba. Amazing. Good. Glorious.

There are, of course, many stories already that we wish to share with you all. And we will. Our life just got a whole lot more interesting, funny, and blessed. Please keep us (all three) in your prayers... and thank you for sharing in our love story as it unfolds.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

The other night we went over to my parent's house. It's my mom's birthday tomorrow and we were too impatient to give her the present. So, sitting there at the table, she opened up her birthday card while my dad hung over her shoulder. We had looked at a lot of different birthday cards, or as many as Safeway carries at 10 o’clock at night, but finally decided on the cheesiest of them all. It had big, ugly flowers all over it. The type of flowers you might see in a mural or picture at your grandma’s house. Fittingly, the card read, "Happy Birthday Grandma!" Fireworks! Excitement! Woohoo! Hooray for life! For love! For marriage! That's right everybody. We're pregnant! And while I used to never understand why husbands would say "we're pregnant," I understand now. Because it is about us. About our family. About the beautiful union between man and wife that God intended to be the start of new life.

While Nicole and I weren't necessarily trying to start a family, secretly for the past month, we've been wanting it. Since the moment we were married I've had an insatiable desire to have a child with her. Here we are, only two and a half months into marriage, beginning a whole different journey. It’s no longer just about this marriage thing. It’s about this parent thing. This family thing. Another reason for you readers to visit our blog more frequently.

When my mom opened the card, she asked, “Is this a joke?” Then reading what we had written inside, she and my dad knew immediately. They’re going to be grandparents. They just bought this 1990 Buick that is so old school, after they opened the card I told them that they already have the car for it. The thing has grandparents written all over it. I think when they drive it I’ll refer to them as Ethel and Fred. That’ll really solidify the yes-you’re-old-get-over-it fact of the matter. My dad already knows, but my mom’s a little bit in denial. A couple months back she looked at me, straight-faced and said, “Jon, I have friends around fifty.” I didn’t hesitate to tell her that she was around fifty. Bottom line though—they’re excited. Just like the rest of our family. Screaming, one swear word, laughing and a “Whoooooops” from my brother were some of the reactions we received. My father-in-law, Bill said that he didn’t have enough Disney movies yet. Sorry, Bill. Better pick up the pace of that collection.

We both have no idea what's in store over these next eight or nine months. What kind of surprises we'll face. What kind of cravings Nicole will experience. How much vomiting will ensue. When and how greatly my sympathy pains will affect me. But these are all things we're ready to face together. With power from the Holy Spirit of course. When you think about it, please pray for us and for our infinitesimally small and growing child.

Life is good. Marriage is good. All of it's so stinking good.

I’m kind of rambling right now, but I don’t know exactly what to say. I’m missing something, but I’m sure it’ll come out later. For now, we just wanted to get the word out. I wanna shout it from the rooftops. I'm gonna be a father. I'M GONNA BE A DAD! When I emailed one of my friends the good news, he replied, "Holy crap! Congratulations!" Holy crap is right. Holy crap!

And one more thing. Thank you, Lord!

2006... And Beyond!

Stinky. I just wrote a whole great post on my life's mission statement, my goals and my word for 2006. And it got deleted. I hate that.

Oh well, it probably would have bored you anyway, and I really don't feel like rewriting it. So here's the basic premise. I finished my life's mission statement to help me remain focused on what God's given me and how I believe He wants me to be used throughout my life. Also, I began to write my goals for the year because one of my best friends has seen consistent year-after-year success as a result of his focus. Can't aim too high because you could set yourself up for failure. Can't aim too low, because you wouldn't achieve enough. But, I think I found a great balance.

My Mission.
While living on this earth, I exist to take up my cross and follow Jesus, love my God, family and neighbors, employ my spiritual gift as a shepherd, utilize my personality as a leader and leverage my creativity and ambition as I am conformed to become more like Christ every single day.

My Word for the Year.
Focus.

My 2006 Goals.
It's long, so I won't go into the details, but it's pretty stinking cool (if I don't say so myself), and if you're looking to live a more focused life, you should try writing your own. I'm excited about it and I'll let you know my progress as I go a long. Email me if you're interested in a copy.

Also, just so you know, one of my goals is to write more consistently on this blog. I had a whole great intro about this, but it got lost. Did I mention I hate that?