Fathers and Sons

I'll admit it, when I first learned that Sarah was pregnant, I kinda hoped for a girl. I don't know if it was passed on to me by my father, who always wanted a baby girl but had to settle for two sons, or if I just loved the middle name we'd picked for a girl so much, but it was almost a disappointment when the ultrasound showed external plumbing. Almost. See, something happened in the very moment that I first saw my son for what he really was. I can't really explain, but there was an instant connection made, and I knew that God's creation growing inside my wife was good. I was very excited to meet Caleb from that day on throughout the rest of the pregnancy.

Six weeks ago now, we finally met face-to-face. The things about parenting that excite me most (reading, playing, creating together) still lie in the future, but there's an undeniable bond between us already. Maybe I wanted a girl because I was afraid that my inability to rough-house, to do the things I see able-bodied fathers do with their sons, would negatively affect my relationship with a boy. That all seems so inconsequential now, because I know that there is a higher calling in being a father. I don't mean that the relationship between father and son is more important than father/daughter, mother/son, or mother/daughter. All I guess I'm trying to say is that I can instill masculinity, a faithful, humble, complete masculinity, in my son without being able to put him in the figure-four leglock. I don't need to teach him to be "wild at heart" or a "barbarian in the wilderness", either. All he needs from me is love, the kind of love that comes from shared wonder.

I saw a bit of that in him already last night. We went to a baseball game, and afterwards, there was a fireworks show. He was absolutely transfixed, mouth wide open and eyes big enough to take it all in. As he sat in my arms, I felt the same way. Oh, the fireworks were great, but there was something bigger happening. We were sharing wonder, and if he can get that from something as synthetic as a fireworks display, then I can't wait to share Narnia with him. Or Middle-earth. Or the burr oak down on Main Street Hill (he loves trees already). Or The Art Institute of Chicago. Or the ivy on the walls at Wrigley, while we're at it. Or even Grand View Drive back here in the River City.

As he grows, I can't wait to share with him the things I love, the things I wonder at. Mozart. Beethoven. The Flaming Lips. But I'm even more excited to find out those things that he'll discover on his own and share with me. That's why I'm here. To nurture and protect, and discipline and teach him, sure. But that's all just so I can be taught by him. That's what being a father is. And maybe, as we learn from each other, we'll learn a little more about the world around us and the God who creates it for us to enjoy.