Nikon D90 Giveaway!

Do yourself a favor and enter this contest at http://www.ohsoposhphotography.com/blog/?p=5458.  This would be a perfect compliment to help capture those Christmas time memories!

Best of luck!

The More I Open My Eyes The More I See

The epidemic of bullying and the cascading ramifications throughout the youth of today requires us each to open our eyes and ears.  Having been in a position where I leveraged ignorance to gain what I thought to be social status at the cost of others I recognize the need to help all people realize that our brokenness connects and unites us.  We are all the same, we are all working to create our place in this world.  We are all vulnerable, we all need love, we are all trying to overcome something.

Silence

Wednesday night sometime around 1 a.m. my wife woke me up to tell me that our son was saying that something hurt.  I went over to investigate and while he didn’t immediately tell me that anything hurt, it was clear that he was uncomfortable.  After some time he mentioned that his stomach was hurting.  I thought nothing of it and encouraged him to go back to sleep.   

A little while later his little body curled up and he began to vomit.  He wasn’t feeling well and now his body was trying to get rid of what was causing the problem.  His vulnerability was on full display and despite his four years and two months, he was in that moment a little boy who was feeling sick.  I scooped him up and we made our way to the bathroom, his vomit on me, his bed, and the floor to the bathroom.  After he finished he began to plead with us to make it stop.  Make the puking go away, reset him back to normal, sign us out so this could end, pay us out so we can leave this terrible place of feeling so bad.  He wasn’t joking at all; all he wanted us to do was the one thing we couldn’t, make this stop.  I felt hopelessly powerless over the situation; I knew that all we could do was try and get him comfortable.  He kept asking us to make it stop, to pay us out and let us leave this awful feeling.  As I sat with him and rubbed his back to comfort him I was confronted with the reality that all parents face, no matter how badly we wanted to change this situation we were essentially powerless to make it stop.   

We could only sit in silence with him and wait for the end.

I was reminded of a poem that I read from Li-Young Lee, here it is:

A Story

Sad is the man who is asked for a story
and can't come up with one.

His five-year-old son waits in his lap.
Not the same story, Baba. A new one.
The man rubs his chin, scratches his ear.

In a room full of books in a world
of stories, he can recall
not one, and soon, he thinks, the boy
will give up on his father.

Already the man lives far ahead, he sees
the day this boy will go. Don't go!
Hear the alligator story! The angel story once more!
You love the spider story. You laugh at the spider.
Let me tell it!

But the boy is packing his shirts,
he is looking for his keys. Are you a god,
the man screams, that I sit mute before you?
Am I a god that I should never disappoint?

But the boy is here. Please, Baba, a story?
It is an emotional rather than logical equation,
an earthly rather than heavenly one,
which posits that a boy's supplications
and a father's love add up to silence.

Full of Thanks

November 17th at 4:13 am I watched my wife find the strength within her to change our lives forever.  In a beautiful demonstration of the might she carries she brought our son into this world.

My hands were the first to touch him, as his head was delivered I was given the honor of welcoming him to this circle of love.  Our third child, our third miracle.  Cradled in those moments was the new beginning of life.

Nothing could set a better stage for this time of year, as we stop, reflect, and try to find a way to express gratitude for all that we have.

For me that begins with my wife.  Quite simply she is my soul.  Everything good in my life can be traced directly to her, I am beyond grateful for her.  I can only give my every moment to her in an expression of thanks and love.

My gratitude and thanks then continues to our children.  The space between these words best describes how thankful I am for our children.  The space represents the infinite; all that cannot be spoken or defined.  My wife is my soul, our children are my heart.  Every morning I have the gift of waking up to the most beautiful gifts life could have ever given me.  This is not lost on me and I hope to give them my every moment in an attempt to express just how thankful I am for the honor of being their father. 

My thanks extend to the most unrecognized aspect of our family, our dogs.  While receiving less and less recognition, time, and affection they keep giving completely of themselves and asking little in return.  They model unconditional love in the truest sense.  I've learned a tremendous amount from them and I am beyond thankful for their presence in our life.

The Most Precious of Gifts

In the early morning hours of November 17th our lives were forever changed.  At 4:13 a.m. through the strength and grace of my wife we welcomed our third child into this world.  It was a remarkable journey.  Our hearts are full as we celebrate, we have a tremendous amount to be thankful for!

Amazing

Fall

RIP

Learning

When it comes to learning I often learn the hard way.  When I was young I wouldn't go near The Beatles.  As I've grown I'm learning the error of my ways, and thank goodness.


So I am learning to love the music of The Beatles. 

Here's one reason why:

This Time

Leaning against the nursery glass I realized, we are only days away from another miracle in our lives.  You see we decided for good measure that we'd better take a look at the labor and delivery rooms in the hospital we will have our baby later this month.  I should say my wife will have our baby, but what can I say I like to think of it as something we will both do.  I recognize that in reality it is all her; it is as nature intended; in the most capable of hands.

As we waited for someone to take us back we were next to the nursery, I leaned up against the window.  Leaning against that window I pressed my head closer and I heard it, the sounds of an infant crying, that unmistakably delicate and vulnerable sound.  At first I remembered that I know those sounds, I know what this means. ..

Then in a moment I was lifted from that foundation of confidence and shook to my core with the notion that every time is the first time.  Every time is the first time.  While we've been blessed to have two beautiful children, I knew in those moments that really nothing I've done in the past prepares me for this moment, this moment is unique, this moment is the first of its kind. 

I felt ashamed that I'd not realized it sooner; this time is unlike any other.  This time is the first time we will welcome our third child.....

Then I got nervous, nervous in a way that calls me to realize that nothing is ready.  Nervous in a way that causes someone to grab the nearest piece of paper and quickly scribble everything that needs to be done to be ready.

- Put the crib together

- Wash the car seat

- Find the car seat

- Pack clothes for the baby

- Find the stopwatch to time contractions

- And on, and on, you get the point....

Nervous in a way that calls out, I'm going to be a dad again....  Nervous in a way that reminds me that this is the next most important moment of my life.

As I race through this emotional marathon my heart is beating, I think I'm beginning to sweat, my stomach is in knots.

This is really happening very soon.  One question running through my mind, "Will I be a good dad?"

Then I look over at my wife, she's smiling and I know that just like nature intended it, everything is at is should be; in the most capable of hands.

Where do I find the words to say thank you my love.  We're on the most amazing ride together.  Your strength as our guide.

The Good

I will not die an unlived life,
I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

~ Dawna Markova