I’ve come to realize that because of my existence, there’s going to be another human being in the world.  Part of me looks at all of the other human beings in the world and thinks it’s not that big of a deal.  Look at a crowded stadium and all those people were crammed into some woman’s stomach at some point.  Quite a few of them (unfortunately, probably not all of them) had whimsical fathers that pondered the existence they were creating.  They’ll all go on, maybe have more babies that they create, and this big rock will continue to spin.  That’s one of my inner monologues.

The other inner monologue gives me an entirely different perspective.  This one looks at that stadium full of people and each person is unique and a product somehow of their upbringing.  Each person there was crammed into the tummy of a woman, but then they were set free.  That freedom is the masterpiece God designed for us.   God’s interjection in this world is the reason that it’s an amazingly big deal to have Junior squirming around in his Mom’s stomach.  To have a kid that will eventually mimic what I do.  A child that I’ll teach how to play catch, drive a car, and give financial advice to. 

It’s an amazing thing, isn’t it?  When I’m flying, I can look from the airplane down at the world and it all looks so well-organized and peaceful.  There’s not a noise the reaches the plane and even flying over a big city is beautiful.  If you go down to the surface, you see the worst of the worst this world has to offer.  In this situation, in this pondering in my head, it’s the opposite.  From the stadium view, every person is identical and does not matter.  However, up close, each person is unique and a product of the ones that brought them into this world. 

I can’t wait.