One of my friend's baby just came.
His marriage is like mine: Asian and Caucasian and his baby girl was born healthy thankfully.
The little girl arrived at work and I stopped by to take a look.
Then someone holding little Charlotte asked me if I wanted to hold her, and I replied a quick, "yes". Holding her and watching her sleep in my arms it was magical. I couldn't help but smile as I heard her baby sounds - a 'cooh' or a cute smack of her lips.
Little Charlotte was as perfect as a baby can get. Beautifully shaped hands, beautifully proportioned and beautiful jet black hair. The thought was broken by the giggle of her older sister playing with her father.
It was one of those moments where you pause and know what life is really about.
As I stare at this precious thing in my arms, and as I rocked her to close her to eyes - out of fear she might wake up - I realize the beauty and preciousness of life.
A revelation came to me: I would do anything to protect this baby if I had to, even with my very life. Just grabbing her perfectly formed finger between my thumb and finger I could see her nail, her knuckle, and the delicate construction of her hands. The noise of beginning life mixed with slumber moved me: this is how it feels to be a father.
I smiled inside lost in my own thoughts.
I could see myself doing this: loving my baby. Holding my girl. Holding the boy I lost. A part of me wished my wife was there...she probably blink a tear or two seeing me. You could see it in my face and she would have read it: I could see you as a father.
I was lost for a few moments going back to places of 'what if's'. What if my two children were alive today? What if my father who passed away was alive to hold them?
I blinked a tear away, and suddenly realize it was hard to hold this baby that was now a mixture of wonder and deep sadness.
Sadness reminded me of my losses.
Then I realize what God must have felt. Sending his Son, so dear to him: into this world to reach out to us with a message of love. I would have done anything to protect the baby, but God would do the very opposite of sending his child with a message of love.
I shook my head, Jesus was born a baby: just like the one I held.
For a little bit, as an imperfect man I knew a little of what a friend said, "Until you become a father - there's a dimension of God's loss as a father you will never understand."
I think I understand just a little: the Wonder of it All.