There are a lot of memories that really stand out to me about the last week - seeing him the first time, standing by the table holding him for the first time, our first time together as a family, having my "moments" with him every day where I just get to hold him, talk to him, and sing to him - I love those moments.
One other thing that really stands out about the last week was when he was in the nursery right after he was born (they let us hold him for about 10 minutes, then they took him to a transition nursery for 5 hours and we weren't allowed in - we could just look through the window). They took his foot and made a small cut so they could take blood, then they squeezed it and scraped to get the blood into a tube. I wanted to jump through the window and take him out of there. I knew it was for a good reason, but I didn't care. I couldn't take it anymore. I left. I could not stand there and watch my son go through that.
As I walked away frustrated with the face that I could not do anything about it, I began thinking about what God must have gone through watching his one and only Son be beaten, mocked, whipped, tortured, and hung on a cross by nails through his hands and feet. Here's the part that got to me most - God could have done something about it. He could have said, "No, I'm not going to watch this happen to MY SON! You are not going to do that to MY SON!" He could have just ended it. Taken them out. But He didn't. How could God stand back and watch that happen to His Son who He loves?!? It's because He loves my son that much. Because He loves me. Because He loves you that much! He loves us so much that He would allow His Son to die so that we could be His children.
1 John says it this way: "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!"
4 comments:
Great post bro. Congrats again!
hey is his poop like black tar?
yep, it's kind of like dark brown tar actually...
yeah...something i'm not looking forward too with my future kids. ha
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