He enjoys a quiet, steady, uneventful day. After church there’s hopefully a long sweaty bike ride for him, a nap and some calls home to special dads. No party. No big celebration. The main thing is the dinner meal where we all contribute and prepare together, eat together, laugh together and share some personal heart matters with specific details about how he really makes a difference in the lives of these four boys. And he opens a present or two, that he couldn’t imagine to ask for, because he doesn’t want anything.
Except for one thing. There is someone missing. This year will include all of the usual celebrating agenda and even a rowdy swim at sunset… and if the boys have their way… an intense nerf war when the towels are hung and the suits are drying. War…it’s a boy thing. (Mom’s out there: we can’t take the war out of the boy, all we can do is pick up a nerf gun and sneak up and surprise them. We make boy points when we accept this about their nature.)
ANYWAY… Kira is a continent away. In Craig’s heart (and all of ours, and yours too!) she is already a member of our family. We talk about her like one of the boys. We ache to hold her. Craig sighs several times a week confessing “I am just ready to have her come home.” There’s a hole in this father’s day that we are all side stepping around: a baby isn’t home yet.
This is not to say we reject God’s timing. Not at all. We are just suffering an aching hole in the family circle until she arrives. Of course, we know, when that happens the calm serenity will disappear. And the best part about that news is WE ARE READY for a little baby chaos in this house. Ready. REAdy. READY.
Yet, we aren’t essentially ready until God says we are. Considering He hasn’t said, “Go to Ugand,” we must not be all the way ready.
So we will talk about her. Love her. Pray for her. Share her picture. And prepare our hearts and home for her to arrive. Then, God willing next Father’s day there will be a chubby little black girl with a curly hairdo clinging to her daddy’s waist as she sits on his lap, rests her head on his chest and says in her little baby voice: “I wuv ooo.”