It only took four days.

I never sleep in. Its 10:30am now, and I woke up for the 6 or 7th time 20 minutes ago. I think it was about the fourth time that I realized I was getting angry about being woken up. Since Amy and I got married, I have been told seemingly thousands of times, that having children will show you who you are, show you your muck like nothing else. It only took four days for me to forget my son's beauty and his perfect weakness and flare up with angry impatience in my heart. All the tenderness vanished from my fingers as he cryed for what felt like no reason at all. His legs became perturbing obsticles during a diaper change. I criticized his cry with my intellect and hated his pure emotional need. Those of you who know me will know the deep hypocrisy that this exposes in a very emotional man. But where has all my Joy gone? In the night and this morning we have been praying to find it again. In a more settled moment, I look at Brighton rooting with his tongue, searching for milky food, his eyes closed, his body small and needy, and my God asks me to repent. With his help, I do, and I am learning how to more often, and with more hope. How strange that my own Father is raising me while I begin to bring up my own son. As God I would only ever let my son raise his own children when he was fully developed, mature enough to truly love his children unrestrained, but my Father has me stewarding another even as a sinner, even as I am. My wisdom is not God's wisdom, my reason is not His reason, my love is not His Love. Thank you Jesus for coming to save sinning parents, and for your Spirit whose language is fire, whose prayers refine.