My precious little daughter Harper came two weeks early, healthy and happy. I wanted to quickly jot down a few simple thoughts about her first couple of days.
I try to disentangle the reasons I wanted to become a dad. There are so many intertwined, contradictory, ambiguous factors. Some are selfish. Some are noble. Some are naive. Some are wise. I have faith that parenthood epitomizes the concept of “rewarding sacrifice” as well as anything else I can do in life.
I heard a saying once that goes, “Once you get to know people, it’s impossible to hate them.” I’m not sure if this is always true on the individual level, but on the collective level it seems to be. Put in other words, there are good people everywhere.
A beautiful area in northwestern Spain called Las Médulas prompted some thoughts on the implications of seeing God’s hand in everything, even if it turns out he’s not actually involved in everything, and what the pros and cons of making such an assumption are.
I’ve noticed I have a strong distaste towards the word “commandment” when used in the religious sense. The commandments. Keep the commandments. The Ten Commandments. Et cetera.
As we stand about six weeks out from the birth of the little girl who will make us parents, we’re constantly batting back and forth parenting ideas. Soon theory will need to become practice, and one practice I’m determined to employ is teaching my kids Spanish from birth.
“Yeah, being a parent will be a challenge, but it’ll be more rewarding than challenging,” the naive dad-to-be says to himself. “Heh, just you wait and see…” comes the smirk from been-there-done-that parents. I think many of life’s experiences can benefit from properly managed expectations.
Maybe the two categorizations I present in this blog post’s title aren’t mutually exclusive, but I can definitely say which of the two comes closest to characterizing the God I like to envision.
I’m excited to be a dad. I’m scared to be a dad. It’s going to change my life unlike any other event I’ve experienced. There’s no going back.
Something I like about being Mormon is our emphasis on praying using our own words as opposed to fixed language. But what can we do when spontaneous prayers feel hollow or empty?