Thanksgiving is right around the corner. One day to focus on all that we are truly thankful for in life, to count our blessings, and I suppose survey our disappointments. This year has not been bereft of disappointment, it has hung like a fog around your mother and I, the children we hoped for, and never got to know. It would seem strange to read it in these pages, as if I dwell upon it without ceasing, but please know my life is full, and you have made it overflow.

I have never known such good grace from God. He has given me your mother to make me a better man, and then you through your mother to continue that work even more. I am grateful for this, that you have shown me what it is to love without ceasing, hesitation, and even knowledge of why or how I could love so completely. The smallest moments with you are greater than so many others I used to cling to. I would not trade or part with those moments for all the things this world tells me to seek after- all the material and physical pleasure and pursuits in this life are nothing compared to the joy of having you as my daughter, and your mother as my wife.

If everything in my life I hold dearly to fell away, as someday it must, I would still be blessed. My house, car, career, could vanish and yet I would have blessings. It is too simple to expect only good, and scoff at the misfortune that comes into your life as if you warrant a better hand than the one you were dealt. I know what I would have earned on my own, and it would be bleak indeed.

I did not earn the blessings in my life, so how could I complain when the misfortune I did earn comes to visit me? If I have one hope for you it is that you do not expect a perfect life, so that you will be grateful for the blessings within the imperfect one you live. In that way you can savor them, thank God for them, and treasure them as true gifts.

It may have been sometime since I last wrote, you are recently two years old, your blonde hair has grown longer and your eyes even brighter. You give me great big hugs and enjoy cuddling on the couch. You often times break into song, and will repeat things I have said weeks after word that I had no idea you even heard in the first place. When I get you up in the morning and open your curtains you always exclaim “it’s a beautiful day”. I hope that never changes, I love your innocence and unadulterated joy in such small things.

All my days I am thankful for you. I love you always and nothing will ever separate you from that love.

                I have been thinking a lot about times I have failed in my life. Not necessarily a happy subject, but one I go back to from time to time in order to avoid the mistakes of my past while preparing for my future.

                Some of my failures have been more about my career, like when I tried to become a police officer, but was barred because I had sold my friends some prescription pain pills. Now, before you start imagining that I was a drug dealer I will tell you that I didn’t make more than $8 and only sold them because I did not want to take them myself. That was a tough time, getting rejected from a job I felt called to do, but I have a great job now that I am very grateful for and fulfilled by. I also think about the years I wasted so much time after graduating college. I had my job which paid well and was challenging but looking back I know I had too much spare time that I should have put into getting my MBA or otherwise improving myself. I don’t want to say that I am ungrateful for all the good things that happened those years, but I just wish I would have pushed myself to be at my best.

                Some failures have to do with hurting loved ones. I think about the time I got back from Catalina Island in the 6^th grade. I think I was gone 3 nights, my first time away from home without my parents for that long. My mom was so excited to see me when I got home and she said something like “come over here and give me a hug” but I walked right by her. I don’t know why I did it; maybe I thought it would make me feel more grown up. The one thing I do know is I have regretted the way it hurt her ever since. I mean this is so many years after it happened and yet I can go back to that moment and relive the way it happened so vividly.

                Another one that comes to mind is when your Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Rory had a miscarriage. We were, and hopefully as you are reading this still are, close friends with them. We had grown somewhat apart from them around that time, I don’t know why, sometimes it just happens. I think I might have called Rory to say I was sorry about what had happened, but I never went over, never did anything to show how much I cared and felt for them in their grief. I have always prided myself as being the kind of friend that is there no matter what. I think about that time and how I failed them and I feel so much regret. Sometimes you don’t necessarily hurt another person with your actions, but inside you know without a doubt you should have done more, even though no one was expecting you to.

                Then there is your mother. We had a very rough couple of years of marriage, fights and harsh words and bitter resentment. In retrospect it was a continual failure of mine to be the husband to her I promised to be, and to be the man God had called me to be. I was selfish, immature, and focused on my happiness and desires over hers. Thankfully your mother has more patience, perhaps stubbornness, than most, and we made it through that time. It doesn’t mean the rest is smooth sailing, it just means we are in the same boat to help each other now.  

                Lately my failure has been altogether different. Your mother and I have miscarried three times now. Each one seems to hit her harder than the last, and with each I see her hope and joy drained more and more. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do or even feel. I just know I should be doing more for her, but I don’t know what it looks like. One of the hardest things in life is to watch others suffer and be unable to help them. Sometimes I even get upset because I don’t understand the way she feels, how she wants to avoid certain situations and her negative perspective. I am not saying its ok that I feel that way; I just want to be honest with you about how I feel and what I struggle with. I have to keep in mind that each person goes through life in a unique way, and its not up to me to fix her and force her to see a better way. My job is to love her, support her, listen, and try my best to understand without judgments. Like in all married life my job is to be strong, lead by example and carry us through the dark times when maybe I am the only one with the hope to carry on.

                Having you as our sweet little girl has made us above all things desire more children. We love spending time with you so much, and watching you grow and change. We take such delight in all the new things you learn to say and do. Lately you have been so sweet to me, always coming to find me with a kiss or a hug, wanting to cuddle and play. I think about you 20 times a day at least when I am traveling for work, in the airport each child that I see makes me miss you more and more. Knowing you has been so wonderful that all we want is more of the joy you bring us by being a part of our family.

                Failures are part of life. There are goals that remain unaccomplished, friends hurt, plans left unfulfilled. Those missteps make the successes all the sweeter though, they make the success we find so much more meaningful. I will never forget the triumphs in my life that came after struggle; the good years of marriage after the bad, graduating from college after so many tough exams. I hope that your failures lead you to your greatest accomplishments, that you can come to me always to talk them through, and that even though there may be tough seasons in your life you will never be a disappointment to me.

Working for the man

               Well it looks as though my professional career is coming full circle. Six years ago I started working for Eaton Corporation in their electrical division, moved to the fluid power division, then took a job with another company called Cooper. Last week while your mother and I celebrated 7 years of marriage in Kauai I found out that Eaton was acquiring Cooper. In a few months I will be back to where I started, though in a different role, if they keep me around.

                This whole thing has got me thinking about my professional life, what I want to do, where I want to do it, and what the purpose of it all is. I like to make money, I look to find ways to make more money, starting a business, investments, getting promotions, I spend my time thinking about it, striving for it. Yet it doesn’t make me any happier, I guess I feel more respected by others, more secure knowing that we have financial reserves and I don’t have to stress myself out about paying bills, but not an increase of happiness or peace. I like to travel, spoil your mother, and you, and buy myself the occasional novelty. None of that leads to lasting fulfillment, just temporary highs. I guess I like to spend the most on travel, since those memories I can carry with me forever and the experiences bond you to the people you share them with.

                All of that rambling to say this. I don’t know how much I should sacrifice to gain something that may not be worth the gaining. We are conditioned in almost every country to look upon wealth as the ultimate goal, that those who have it are better, happier, and sexier than the rest of us. I think that view is the same as any stereotype, that is to say, false. There is a large part of me that wants to drive a nice car, live in a massive house, take lavish vacations and buy clothes that cost 400% more than they should, all so that I feel, and that others think, that I am important, special, worthy of respect and a possessor of power over this world. If I accomplish it all, I will die the same death as the poorest of the poor, the same darkness, the same ultimate end, just a different journey to the same destination. Though we cannot ask, I doubt someone with billions of dollars feels any more at peace with death in the final moment than someone with one dollar.

                So what is your father to do? I imagine taking a small 9 to 5 job somewhere in a beautiful location, working with my hands and coming home to your mother and you every night. I imagine owning a small business that will never make me rich or envied, but will leave me peaceful and content. I also imagine sending you to college, having a vacation home for us, continually challenging myself in my career and allowing us to see the world. My dreams clash with one another and I struggle to know which is wiser. In the end I know God will direct my steps as surely as he has thus far in my life. When I was young, and even starting college the life I live now and the career I have had was completely unknown to me, life just happens as you prepare for it.

                I am telling you about all these things to share my heart, so you know what your father struggles with. I want to be a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I think finances play a part in each of those roles. I don’t just want to “put bread on the table” I want to surround that table with a nice house in a good neighborhood, and make sure we see the world outside our door. I want to use the talents God has given me to provide for the church as well as for my family, so that my earthy gains can have a lasting impact in the lives of others, which is why your mother and I tithe and why we went to Africa, and why someday we will take you back.

                I will tell you this right now, in any life there is a measure of success and failure. There are those who make very little, but live great lives, and there are those who have more than can be imagined who are mired in misery. I will love you no matter what your financial success is in life; my only concern is that you have a purpose.

                One great thing about any failures I face is that your mother and you are there for me. My two beautiful ladies. At the end of the day no matter the job I do, the stress in my career, I will always have the two of you. You can be certain that the reverse will also always be true.

Washington Vacation

                 Do you know what is a poor combination? 5 hour flights and 18 month old children! We took you on a trip to the east coast, to see your moms cousin get married. It is so much fun to have you with us, but, as you will someday understand, a great deal less relaxing!

                Its too bad you wont remember it but, we saw where the constitution was signed, the liberty bell, a couple of the Smithsonian museums, the holocaust museum- which thank the Lord you slept through, the Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson, Vietnam, WWII, Korean, MLK and FDR monuments and the battle field where the civil war started. It was a busy week and we made the most of our time. All in all you did well, and it was fun to cuddle in the same bed again like we used to do when you were a little baby.

                You seem to change so much each week, now you try to repeat almost everything you hear, which means your father has to watch his tongue! Your putting together three word phrases and your facial expressions are multiplying. Each day I see my little baby girl grow up a little more, I don’t wish I could stop it, I am just glad that I get to take it all in and spend this time with you.

                It made me think walking around all those monuments last week. I was fascinated how hard we work, and how much we struggle to be remembered for something. It is not only the people who are passed away who wanted to be remembered, we look at those monuments and we think it gives us a piece of them to hold onto. It doesn’t matter if it is a national tourist attraction or a simple headstone in a lonely cemetery. While we are living we struggle to matter, and to be noticed and appreciated. After the living are gone we erect monuments so that we can hold onto them a bit longer, and pretend that their lives had a significance that will last.

                I struggle with the same things, wanting to achieve ever more in life, more money, nicer things, more skills and accolades. Yet I know when I die that nothing will make my death distinguishable from any other, nothing will make it easier. I doubt my last thought will be thank God I lived in that nice house, or worked so hard for so many years to buy all that stuff and have all those people be impressed by me. I would think about you, your mother, and if I lived a good life that God would be proud of.

                People don’t dwell on mortality as they used to, death is not a subject often discussed in detail or great length, because it is troubling when you are enjoying life to think about it ending. As I grow older and older I feel as though I have lived well, but I want to do better. Be a better husband, father, man of God, friend, brother, son. I want to live a life I can be at peace about, no matter who is watching. There will be no monument to me when I go. My name will not be etched in stone, or even in the pages of history, but none of that troubles me. For those things too shall pass, I would rather be forgotten by the world and remembered by God.

                I hope as you grow and experience life you will make wise decisions, and follow a path that will make me proud. Even if you stray from that path I will always have faith and trust that you will return. I don’t daydream about you accomplishing great things, or being famous. I daydream about you living a full life, with love, peace, passion, fulfillment, joy, laughter, and purpose. I will always be proud of you; you will always be my joy.

Cora, this one isn’t for you sweetie. I still think about you almost every day, when I see your big sister I especially think about you. My heart really longs to know who you were, how you smelled and how beautiful and sweet you were. Life has gone forward here, as it does. The winter is leaving and the days are growing longer and warmer, the air is filled with the smell of orange blossoms and everywhere there is life. But my mind is still with you, my heart still feels you, in my prayers I sometimes reach out to you. I don’t want you to think that because I go on I forget for an instant, I don’t want you to think I have left you behind. You are always with me and I will always be a part of you. I doubt that where you are there is time or even necessity for such thoughts, but I couldn’t stand the possibility that you feel unloved. Wherever I go, as long as I live and draw breath you will be with me and will have my love, and someday I will return to the Father and find you waiting. You have a family that loves you, and a Father who holds you now, and a father who will hold you someday.

We found out today that something went wrong in your mothers pregnancy. The little precious life that was growing inside of her stopped growing. It’s a numbing feeling, coming over you slowly like the cold of the night creeping into your bed. Loss is a terrible thing; sorrow is a painful reminder of why we have faith, what we hold dearest, and what truly matters in this short life.

I was ok until I read Psalms 139. I was ok through not hearing the heartbeat, thinking the ultrasound would reveal life, and I was mostly empty after it did not. I comforted your mother, and I struggled with what to think, what to feel, and then I read about how intimately God knows each of us. How intimately He knew our child, the child I will never know, but the child my heart also longs for.

You were a great comfort to us through this. Your sweet smile and kisses, cuddles and hugs helped to soften the sting. We are so blessed to have you; we do not take you for granted for an instant. As I write to you I feel as though there is a piece of me missing, something I am searching for but cannot find. I wanted so badly to meet the life that was growing inside of your mother, just as I longed to meet you and hold you in this world.

I wonder if it was a son or daughter, what color eyes, hair, how sweet the little voice would be. I wonder if my child knows how much I loved it already, and love it still. I believe that life begins at the moment of conception, that a life two minutes old is as sacred as one twenty years old. I believe I will someday see my child. I know that we never knew its name, but that God always did, and that he called that life home.

My sweet sweet daughter. I would spare you from every pain in this world if I could, but I would certainly spare your from the sweetness of joy, from the lessons of wisdom, and from the grace and abundance of God. There is nothing I do to deserve to live these 28 years, and nothing my child did to live only 10 weeks. I know your brother or sister is in heaven. I know we will meet again someday. I know that there is an end to all things, and I am grateful that I have lived to see the beginning of so much life. “your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psl 139: 15-16

If love can exist between two people, before one is in existence, and the other aware of who his heart is longing for, surely I have always loved you.

Well, your first real Christmas has come and gone. I say your first real Christmas because last time you were not able to move very much, let alone understand a single thing that was going on. I think one of your favorite parts about Christmas this year were the snowmen, which you called Mahh-Tahs. There was lots of love, lots of presents, and certainly a lot of family watching and adoring your every move.

Some exciting news we found out is that next Christmas you will not be an only child. We don’t yet know if you will have a little brother or sister yet, but come September you will have to share your affections with another, but I promise there will still be plenty to go around. As you get older it will be a lot of fun for you to have a sibling on Christmas, someone else to get excited with, wake up early with, and share presents with. I don’t have many great memories of Christmas that don’t involve my brother.

When I think of Christmas there are so many things that stand out vividly in my mind, I hope they still will years from now. I remember my grandfathers Cadillac, and about 8 of us piling in to drive to the candle light service at North Phoenix Baptist Church. I loved that car ride. I remember sitting in the balcony with my family, my brother and I both carving away on our candles. I remember how the whole place lit up and the church softly sang quiet night, it was so peaceful and comforting. I loved waking up early with my brother, being so excited the night before we could hardly stand it. I loved standing outside in the cold, looking at the lights on the house, looking at the stars and trying to savor every moment.
There is no balcony anymore at North Phoenix, and so also a great many things have changed. I felt that even more this year, the changes, the longing for what was, slowly transforming into the joy of what is. Now there is you, and your mother, new traditions and memories to delight in. I will always remember how cute you looked bundled up in your Christmas clothes, how excited you got to tear the paper and play with your new toys- even if it only took 45 seconds before you moved onto the next. I will always remember looking at you and being grateful that I would be there as my parents were with me, to live vicariously through your sweet youth, and be reminded of why we celebrate Christmas. I suppose that sentence could be misleading. We don’t celebrate so that parents can relive their youth through their children, we celebrate the joy that comes from salvation, and that salvation came from a child born of a virgin who lived the only selfless life this world has ever known.

When you look back someday you will most likely remember some of the presents you received throughout the years, but what will stand out the most will be the memories that have nothing to do with gifts. Memories of family and traditions, of silly moments, and magical ones, silent nights, and the smell of the Christmas tree. We will always have a real tree, mom will make cinnamon rolls, she will also yell at me for whistling Christmas songs too much, I will put up some great exterior lighting, and we will watch the Christmas story, possibly Elf, and probably Christmas Vacation. We will take time to observe why we are really celebrating, and we will come together as a family. I love that you are part of this now, part of me.
I love you sweetheart.