Praise to the Lord
arr. F. Melius Christiansen
If you’re keeping up with the Eaton clan through church announcements, you have heard by now that my wife and I have experienced a great blessing this January – a healthy baby boy.
And let me tell you – people are right when they say that everything changes when you have a baby. I am not articulate enough to explain it justly, but suffice it to say that with our son’s birth, my place in the world is forever shifted, and that is unquestionably a good good thing.
I should mention, though, that there are a few other shifts that have taken place. I am tired. All the time. We haven’t slept through the night in weeks nor can we expect to in the next few weeks. Our once chic living room is now appointed with super fashionable baby rockers, baby blankets, and burp cloths. Pacifiers are always on hand. Our laundry turnover has at least doubled because of blowouts and spit-ups. We have been late to every one of the baby’s doctor appointments because it now takes 30 more minutes to get ready to leave. Cooking a meal – or any household chore really – is now a (mis)adventure in multitasking.
Now, before the rumor spreads that Andy hates babies, let me say: I recognize ratio of words in the paragraphs above. It is intentional.
This baby is without a shadow of a doubt the biggest blessing of Casey’s and my life together.
But something does not need to be perfect to be a blessing.
Something does not need to be fully formed to be a blessing.
Something does not even need to be convenient to be a blessing.
A baby is just about the perfect example of that, I think. Here comes this little person into the world at the price of immense maternal pain, not able to feed itself, clothe itself, help itself in any way at all. It cries, it makes messes, and, if you’re lucky, it snuggles a little bit, too.
That being said, it is easy to see – if viewed through an askew lens – how it would not be a huge stretch to see the incredible gift of a child as a burden rather than a blessing.
Realistically, I know that I am not above this feeling. I know that the day will likely come that I feel this strange, cynical way, too. When my son cries longer than my meager rest has prepared me for, or when his basketball tournament takes up a whole Saturday after a long week, or a million other inconveniences that I can’t even think up yet.
I hope, when that day comes that my blessing feels a burden, I remember that a surefire sign of a full life is that it sometimes feels like it’s bursting at the seams.
And if that’s not you right now – If you find yourself in the opposite instance, with more time and energy than you know what to do with – lean into this church. Build blessings in your life by finding ways to entwine and obligate yourself to those around you, because it is the quilt of our connections that keeps us most warm.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
John 10:10
And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4:12
Andy Eaton
Director of Music
First Presbyterian Church