Where does joy begin?
From the tips of stubby, tiny toes,
From short little arms and a round little nose.
Where does joy end?
In a mother's soft smile, warm embrace,
Silhouettes of gratitude's beaming face.
emilie g. 11.09.08
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Named by his father
This picture is the Naming of our boy. Yes, I had held him for a few fleeting moments (long enough to ingrain the deepest attachment and love, and an image of new eyes staring RIGHT into mine), and then he was taken to be quickly cleaned up by hospital hands and then passed to Papa. Others in the room, I hope, felt the sacredness of the moment, for some left and those who didn't left a quietness. I don't know what those moments were like for Eddie, but he came back from that corner with his eyes shining.
The week before the birth I had been at the Udell's house, resting up and becoming peaceful for the delivery. I had gone into a small dining room adjacent the kitchen, and sat at the table with a journal, a Bible, and a prayerful spirit. I was reading through Daniel, amazed over and over by how the character held so much that I desired for my son: wisdom in youth, ability to be counter-cultural, God given understanding. Soon this time with the Lord resulted in an image that I would later paint and give to Uriah - an image of a lone figure standing as all others bowed down against God around him, and their prostrate bodies resembling the gravestones of their sacrificed eternal life. I wrote in my journal that I wanted to name my son Uriah Daniel, but I didn't tell Eddie this.
Weeks before the birth I'd decided that Eddie could name our son. He had told me how it was so significant to him that his father had named him. Of course, I had some say in what the "narrowing down" of names were, or give suggestions.
But here were were in the delivery room, and Eddie walked up to me with this glowing expression.
"Emilie, there are a couple different names we could give him, but I really think he's a Uriah Daniel."
What do you have in store for him, Lord?
Bathed by the Grandmothers
This is a special picture to me, my culmination of emotion etched by the combination of the tenderness of the moment and also its history. I can remember barely being out of the stage of being bathed in the sink myself, but saying, "Grandmama's giving the new baby the first bath... again!" And Grandmama was there, giving the freshly breathing infant a meticulous cleansing in the silver kitchen sink. And soon out would come the Johnson-smelling and swaddled new Lang addition.
But here was Eddie and I's newest addition, with the tenderness of my mother's hands cradlign it into the world. This grandma'am hands softly washed him, hands which had given dozens of baths to children in kitchen sinks and thousands of kisses to the silken cheeks that smelled of Johnson No Tears, but the little one within her arms was my own son.
It is a simple tradition, but precious to my heart nonetheless. My child will come into this world and immediately know of the caring hands of his family. And while the tenderness will not always be a tangible hug and bathing, it will continue in tender prayers... long after he's grown out of the sink.
Friday, August 29, 2008
God's Resort Home
We had moved into our 316 W. 14th St. home, amid God's Resort, in early February. College Heights Christian Church had "adopted" the area to help rehabilitate it to a healthy standard of living - the previous situation had been one of drugs, violence, and poverty level housing. But rather than giving them charity at arms length they decided the Jesus approach instead: living among and loving the people within arms length - not having them come to us in our church building, but going to them and sharing their lives.
It was a profound experience for us. Our door was constantly open to the children who ran in and out, and at the same time we would spend hours sitting on the couches of the neighbors around us - Sharon, Shay, the Lunas, the Millers, and many more. At the same time that we had moved in, my sister Abi came and lived with Megan and Katie (who had been there nearly a year) and soon friends Eric and Peter moved to a nearby apartment. We began living as a community - most days 2 meals a day were shared with each other, cars constantly borrowed, and prayer meetings delved into twice a week. The Lord moved, and we learned how to pursue people - complete with the heartbreak and exhilaration of friendship.
This was the home that Uriah was born to, but just as when I was born my parents moved from their home within two weeks, so Uriah would not spend more than two weeks with this as his abode. Still, the God's Resort people dubbed him their First Baby Born, and there was such a connection with the people as they would give me motherly advice or we would all look forward to meeting him together.
Cinco de Mayo
I had spent the week previous the birth at the Udell's home. Mama Celia arrived from Arizona first, and we spent our days walking around the golf course, cooking good food, and enjoying chatting times. Cinco de Mayo - his due date - came and went without symptoms of his arriving. For so long we'd wondered about the irony of having him on the Mexican holiday, but now the connection would be forgotten. Instead we shared delicious carne asada with the Conklins, Becks, and our God's Resort neighbors, eating it as a picnic on our front lawn.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Papa y Mama
I remember the first moments. I had just experienced the most incredible, inexplicable feeling of him emerging from within, and suddenly this tiny face and slimy body was laid on my chest, on his side, arms flailing. He had not begun to breath yet and his lips were pursed. His tiny fingers were spread apart from one another, and his legs were stiff... but he still just melted onto me, he fit there within my arms. The nurses were roughing him up to introduce his lungs to the earth's oxygen, but all faded to me as my eyes locked in so steadily with this infant's. His gaze was so strong, his neck craned and his dark eyes did not move from a steady stare. It took my breath away. I always thought that I would have a thousand emotions coursing through me, with a stream of thoughts, whenever I saw my child for the first time. I had requested they lay him on my chest beforehand, and I had imagined this moments a hundred times in the weeks leading up to this experience. Yet now, it was simply AWE. Not a million emotions like cobwebs in a ball, but just one. One emotion that filled me. AWE at what the Lord had created through us. I could not be more thankful.
After they had taken him away to be cleaned, Eddie took the freshly swaddled baby into his arms. I watched him from my place on the bed, as he was profoundly gentle, and with the great well of emotions conspicuous by the tears on his face. He was a father, now. I will never know what he was thinking... he made his way to the corner of the room, with his back to everyone. I had passed onto him the role of naming the child... I think there is something significant in fathers naming their sons. He was there for a long time, as it seemed to me. Soon after he turned around he had the most incredible rich expression on his face, and also one of anticipation as he was waiting to tell me what he had decided. Everyone else was ushered out by him and he leaned over the bed so that I could still take in who this, our child, was. He told me three different names but then said that he was, " Uriah Daniel." We both knew! The previous week, that had been the name that was implanted in my heart during prayer times, and it had a coinciding vision of who we were to pray that he would be. The Lord didn't need to also affirm that name in my heart, but he did. And... Uriah Daniel he is!
Those First Breathtaking Moments
The joys of having family there for the birth. It really is amazing to have a spiritual legacy to pass down to our son; he will now be prayed over, encouraged in the Spirit, and held accountable in love.
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