I had too much sleep last night and I need a shower. I don't think I stink, or anything. I just like feeling clean. That's probably the worst thing about camping. I can't get a shower. My eyes feel dirty. My hair feels nappy. I need to brush my teeth. I love feeling clean. But, when I'm camping, I get over that. I enjoy breathing in the cool mountain air. The mountain air helps me get over my discomfort. How stupid my discomfort is.
My life has changed. Lindsey and I welcomed our baby boy into the world. He is nothing short of perfect. I cannot even begin to describe to you what it was like to see his little face for the first time. People always talk about how birth is a miracle, and you don't think much about it until you see it happen. I love my son so much. I know what it means to truly worry now. I thought I had worry before. I worried about graduating university. I worried about making rent. I worried about finding a gorgeous woman who loves me (I had legitimate reason for that worry, but God did bless me). Having a baby son will give you real worry. And I have a feeling this worry isn't going away any time soon. I worry that I will fail as a father. I worry about worse things that I don't even want to mention in this blog.
I know that God caused this universe to exist from nothing and it expanded from nothing faster than the speed of light. That shouldn't even be possible. Matter and anti-matter. I can't even try to understand how our universe works, and even the smartest people in the history of humankind are still trying to understand it. For me, I have the universe sleeping right next to me. He is mine and Lindsey's universe, and he's only 10 days old.
So, I'll do my best. I'll try my hardest. Then I'll try even harder. Luke will motivate Lindsey and I. He already has. He is changing lives already. He has all the potential in the world and I am excited to be a part of his life. He also has the cutest little startle reflex. I love my son. I love him, I love him, I love him.
You made me so happy, God
I saw your work and I shouted for joy. Psalm 92:4 (The Message)