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He’s here! Today at 3:33 p.m. William Keegan was born. He was 8 lbs. and 3 oz. and measured 22 in. long. He and his birth mother are doing well. I am way too tired for doing so little today, so I will let these pictures speak for themselves. The only thing I am thoughtful of tonight is how much these parents must love this baby to make this sacrifice. They are wonderful young people who are making a difficult decision. Our selfish prayer is that everything works out as planned, but we never want to forget the sacrifice being made on their part. Until tomorrow…
Today was the opening day of soccer season here in Bowling Green, and Jaycie has decided to play. I have to be honest – I was happy that she wanted to play, but I wasn’t sure how the experience would play out. We went early for pictures, and that gave “The Dream Team” about 30 extra minutes to practice. I was thankful to be a supportive dad, but I still was expecting to more or less endure the whole game thing.
Jaycie sat out at the beginning, so my expectations were met. The girls were cute playing out there, but nothing special. Well, everything turned on a dime when Jaycie got into the game. All of a sudden, I became the biggest soccer fan in the world. The Kentucky Wildcats (basketball) could have been playing the Tennessee Titans on the next field, and you couldn’t have pried me away from the field where Jaycie was playing. I was yelling (all positive – I promise) encouragement to all of the girls, my heart was racing, and I got so excited. It was so much fun. Now I want to get out and play with them and help in any way possible.
I have to brag on Jaycie, also. She was so good. There were girls on that team who have played several years before, but Jaycie was just as good. She seems to have a natural knack for knowing where the ball is and where she needs to be. She is pretty fast and is able to kick the ball under control. It is so cool to watch her have so much fun and be successful. It is so much better than being on the team myself.
Okay, so I am sitting here, in my recliner, watching the West Virginia/Texas game on the TV and the Gonzaga/UCLA game on my computer. Does it get any better than this? Oh yeah, actually it might. Did I mention that in a bracket I filled out on a sports talk radio station in Nashville, I picked LSU to beat Duke (which happened tonight), Texas to beat West Virginia (which is about to happen), Gonzaga to beat UCLA (which also looks likely). I am currently number 5, but I am sure to go up after tonight. If I win, I will get four tickets to each of the following: the final Predators’ home game, the final Nashville Kats home game, the Vanderbilt football season opener, and a 2006 Titans home game. Boy, how I would love to win that contest! Go Boston College!
UPDATE: I actually was up to number 3, but then UCLA made a spectacular comeback, so I may go down. Not sure yet. I may still be okay. Fortunately I didn’t have the ‘Zags going all the way.
I used to love Christmas, and then I went through a phase when I only liked getting presents but didn’t care about the rest. I think it is fair to say I didn’t believe in Santa. Then I started to see evidence again as I became older and had opportunities to do for others. But then I became a dad, and boy, did that change things. I went from a half-hearted believer to a full-blooded one. Now, I find no greater joy than seeing the joy that Santa brings my little girl – the magic that she experiences when she sees the half-eaten cookies and the empty mug of milk, the amazement at the much-wished-for gift that Santa intuitively places under the tree, the wonder and knowledge that someone knows her so well and cares for her so much. And probably the greatest joy lies in knowing that my effort and part in the drama is unnoticed and anonymous. I don’t do it for the credit, but for the joy that it brings.
There are deep spiritual meanings to this, but for now I’m late for leftovers and family time. I just don’t ever want to forget that this is truly what it is all about – doing for others who can’t do for themselves, knowing that you will get little if any credit, but not caring one bit. Wishing you could do more things for more people more often. Knowing that this is only one little part – albeit an important part – of what my Father felt when He gave me His Son. Sorry I’m so ungrateful so much of the time.