Friday, July 9, 2010

Change

            After a long stretch of unseasonable cold, yesterday was deliciously hot, to the point of being sticky. We spent the whole afternoon outdoors, and knew we’d remember the day fondly as one of our last in Vancouver’s gorgeous summers.
            Late last night my friend Kirk came over, cracked open a beer with me on the front porch, and we discussed deep matters and prayed together. I gently rocked little Joshua in my large hands as we talked about the difference between lip service faith and change.
            “Change,” I told Kirk, “Is what scientists need to see in order for them to classify something as alive. Without change, they don’t call it a living thing.” I paused, then said, “I think the same could be said of our spiritual lives. If we don’t change, we’re dead.”
            I think a lot of times we fear change. Change is hard, and oftentimes painful. None of us take to it well – and I think that makes perfect sense – we love to have our rhythms and stability, there’s nothing wrong with that. But without risking and seeking more in life, we’ll never be the people we were designed to be.
            As we were discussing these things, Joshua squirmed. I looked down at him, “Speaking of changing…”
            As Joshua started to cry I handed him to Kirk and ran inside to grab a diaper. Joshua has been edgy for a few weeks now. He cries every time he even has a hint of pee in his diaper. Heck, he seems to cry about nearly everything.
            When we started praying I looked down at the little dude in my hand and naturally started to pray for him. “God, give him a good night sleep. Help him to feel better.”
            I was shocked this morning when Michelle came downstairs and Joshua was completely content. “How’d it go last night?”
            “Great.” Michelle smiled at me.
            “Woah.” I shook my head in disbelief. Michelle hasn’t had a good night’s rest in a couple of weeks, and she actually looked rested!
            We sat on the porch and discussed our plans for the day – we’re throwing our big going away party tonight, and need to move all the boxes into the front room to make our home more hospitable. Joshua sat happily the whole time we talked. I’d had an epiphany about him last night, and I shared it with Michelle, “I want you to feed him at the most every two hours.”
            Michelle nodded her head.
            “His stomach is probably uncomfortable with eating so regularly, and he’s only getting the first stuff from the milk, not the full rich stuff that comes with longer feedings.”
            Michelle continued to nod her head.
            “If he starts rooting for the nipple, give him a rubber one, unless it’s been a minimum of two hours.”
            We agreed to go with this new plan, and looked at our boy in amazement. He’d been quiet the entire time we sat on the front porch. Could this be our colicky son?
            I felt his diaper. It was full. I went inside to change him, and although it was full of both poo and pee, he didn’t even peep the entire time! For the first time ever, Joshua didn’t cry once when I changed him, and I stared at him in shock. “Joshua! You’re such a delight today! My little bean! My little J-Bean! Look at how happy you are!”
            Joshua stared up at me with wide blue eyes, and I felt a deep love for him – probably the most I’ve felt since he was born. It’s amazing what a difference a happy kid makes. Boy, am I ever happy that he’s changed (in more ways than one, I’m sure).

No comments:

Post a Comment