Becoming Daddy

We recently found out that some very good friends of ours–a couple that got married the day after us, in the same town, and who went to the same colleges as practically all of our friend from high school–are having a baby as well.  Their little spawn will emerge a 4-6 weeks after ours, if my math is correct.  I was joking with our drummer and his wife, encouraging them to get in on the action since we had two-thirds of a band incubating inside our wives (i play the bass and my friend plays a mean, mean guitar).  Well, they chuckled about it and said someday.  But, apparently i said it loud enough for our other drummer to hear.  

In other baby news, some North Carolina friends had their twins a few months ago.  The scary thing is that they were premature–28 weeks, to be exact.  So, the babies ended up staying in the hospital for over 80 days.  Reading his story has been hard for me, so I haven’t mentioned it until now.  It’s just tough knowing that, well, something could go wrong.  I can’t imagine what that would be like, but I hope that I would be able to handle it with half the peace that Jason and Diana have showed.  Seriously, you should read their blog; it’s like this crazy exercise in this calm peace and trust that I just completely don’t understand.  

Anyway, a few days after Diana went into the hospital (at 26-ish weeks), Jason posted the lyrics to a song we’ve recently begun to play at Pathways, “Song of Hope.”  I had completely forgotten that he had done so, but as I was rereading some of his posts, I found it again.  It’s funny, because that song has been going through my head constantly for the past two weeks, and I just spent some time with it again tonight trying to nail down my part more accurately.  Now, though, the song is going to mean more to me.  When we play it, I’m going to think about Jason, Diana, Addison, and Aidan, and I’m also going to think about my little (unnamed) Tiger.  I’m going to be worried about the health and safety of my son from now until I die, as I know my father does for me, but I also know that I can sing a song of hope –and of fear, doubt, thankfulness, shame, worry, etc — to a God that hears, forgives, heals, and loves.  

A song will rise indeed.