While I type my little sister, Farrah, is going through labor to bring her first child, my first nephew into the world. Weird.
And exciting.
Jen and I are flying up to see the little drooly thing next week, and change some of his first chocolate-y diapers. But tonight, I'm surprised at myself. My dna is rejoicing, and I feel almost giddy. It's ridiculous, yet foolishly perfect...holy.
I've never been a baby person. I've always marveled at friends and relatives who become dads, how quickly they become different people. I thought maybe I was programmed differently, after meeting my niece this past year (Jen's sister, Sarah, had Savannah Belle in Jan '06). Savannah's a doll and all, but I didn't feel any special googliness around her...but, thinking of my sister pushing out that little boy-thing...
I'm programmed just like everybody else. God did something to our dna. We want to see it replicated at some deep sub-conscious level. It's a knowledge that resides in the body, not the mind, not the brain. It makes me feel animal, but it also gives me an appreciation for the love of God-the self-giving love of God. God knows His own goodness, and longs to see it replicated. He marked us with that goodness, and even though we've marred it, we still know the longing to replicate it.
Breathe, Farrah, Breathe!