Tuesday, 6 May 2008

The Proud Father

My nephew Joseph Raphael Garcia was born on Thursday May 1st weighing 6 lbs 3 oz after a 5 hour induced labour. (Laura and Joseph are currently back in hospital as he wasn't feeding properly, Pete, my brother, was apparently quite distressed to see Joseph being fed with a pipe up his nose, prayers much appreciated.) (Since I started writing this on Wednesday, the Garcia family have just arrived home. Turns out as well as not feeding, Joseph had high sodium levels. If you could pray about it I would be forever in your debt.)

Pete, wells with pride. When I spoke to him the other day I couldn't get over how much tired happiness was in his voice. He's is SO proud of his Son, and he's a "father who loves to parade him" and show him off. The thing is about Joe (I think start calling him Joe as that's what Pete and Laura call him), he hasn't actually done anything! Apart from causing

I would have to say, Joe's life accomplishments have been pretty uneventful thus far, but that is exactly what excites me.

Maybe I'm going over old ground again here, but I can't help but wonder what God thinks of me and reassure myself that he is indeed very proud, not because I have do anything, but just because I am his Son.

For Pete, he knows exactly what it's going to be like. In Joe's life, he is going to give Pete and Laura an immense amount of joy through just being. He'll cause them to worry, he'll give them late nights, he'll surprise them and hopefully in ways, teach them. He will also, being human by his very nature, defy them and maybe cause them much heart ache.

But I know this to be true when I say, with foreknowledge of what it may be like, Pete and Laura love Joe. I which when you read the word "love" in the last sentence you were actually stuck with the power of that word and the emotion behind it.

Again, all this makes me think of God and what he thinks of me. Good stuff.

Is it normal for babies only a week and half old to be so smiley?

Maybe he was just glad to be going home.


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