Thoughts on Fatherhood: The Reboot

On the way home today from dropping Emily off for a women's meeting, I had one quick errand to run then was rushing to get Owen back for bed. While I was finding new and unusual ways that my body - and in particular, my right shoulder and arm - could contort in order to drive while keeping his pacifier still in his mouth. In fact, I would have made any yoga master proud... but I digress.

I suddenly realized that I was driving past the hospital where he was born just four short months ago. And in that wispy way that memories come flooding back in... that almost out-of-body experience where you're still there (driving, in my case) but also re-living that particular moment with such realism and clarity... I was transported back to the exact moment when he was born.

Owen's birth was one of the most poignant moments of my life. To say it was 'awesome' or 'amazing' or 'incredible' or 'super-stupendous' really just cheapens the experience. Those words are too over-used and meaningless for vastness contained such an event. In fact, I still cannot find words that accurately describe the all too brief yet expansive hours and minutes that contained Em's labor and Owen's arrival.

This is a picture of Owen shortly after arriving...

As you can see, his head was still snapping back into shape and his hands were still mostly blue. Even then, he didn't cry or complain much. As the doctor checked him out, he just sorted squawked at him, as if to say, "Hands off, buddy... I'm having an experience here."

Just a few short moments before, I had an experience of my own.

It's difficult to describe outside of calling it a complete system reboot. You know, like after you download and install in update on your computer and you're required to restart your computer before it will function properly again. When it's happening, the system is busy and you can't access any programs or do anything. I had a complete system reboot... literally. For some imperceptible amount of time... could have been 2 seconds or it could have been 2 minutes (I'm sure Emily could tell you)... I couldn't think... I couldn't move... I couldn't talk.

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Not a single thought crossed my mind. It is as if the earth time continuum for suddenly stretched out like a rubber band, and I was helpless to do anything.

Since that day, I've pondered what it all meant. When I snapped back to reality and slowly began moving again (much to Emily's loving chagrin), I didn't feel any different. But I knew something was different. I've had a handful of similar experiences when God has stepped into my life and basically said, "Sit down, son, I've got some work to do." But all those times, I kinda knew what was happening.

This was different.

Since that day, I've wondered... what was God up to... what changed in those few moments of complete reboot. I'm now beginning to understand.

Now I can contort in 800 different directions to keep a pacifier in while driving one handed and listening to country music. Yes, country music. For those who know me, I would have formerly considered this a great sin... but something about its haunting twangs and cheesy lyrics soothes our little boy... so I listen and may even sing along one day.

But those are little things... now I see him when I close my eyes at a hockey game, or when I'm in a project meeting at work, or when I've had a rough day and it seems like the attacks are coming from every direction. I see him and have to ask myself... "Am I representing manhood to him? Can he look at me and see a pattern of what it means to be man that follows God with all his heart, mind and strength?" When he stands as a man one day or has a family of his own, will he say, "I know how to be a man because what my father showed me."

That's my duty... that's my role. And I'm committed to it. Because this world will eat up our kids and spit them out. It'll tear them to shreds if we let it. That's why we have to build strong, faith-filled kids who can endure to the end. Children who know right from wrong, and have a deep, abiding love for God.

And it starts with us. We, fathers... we, men. (and a good dose of mothering to boot).

So here's to memories, and here's to reboots. Here's to fathers and mothers. And, most of all, here's to my Father in heaven... who's shown me the way time and time again.

To the end.