As you read this, I think you might think this is a stretch and I’m not going to argue with you.  However, I wanted to write this and see what it sounds like and if it makes any sense.
During our Acid Reflux cry fests, I would just look at my son’s little face which was in pure agony and pure pain and my heart would break.  There was nothing I could to stop it.  There was nothing he did to deserve it.  There were no good reasons for it to happen. 
Now, before I make this next leap, and I know you know what leap I’m about to make, let it be known that I am not comparing my son to Him.  I am not saying that the suffering he had compared to Him.  However, I’m looking it from my vantage point.
To see your son suffer and feel helpless or to act helpless is one of the most excruciating things in the world.  I think when we thing of Good Friday, we often put much of the focus on Jesus (as it should be).  However, after going through this, it gives me a perspective on what God went through when Jesus suffered.  In this instance though, God chose to sat out (clearly he didn’t have to), but he did for the sake of humanity. 
How excruciating it must have been for God to sit there in Heaven with the knowledge of what he was letting happen to his son.  Unlike my position, God could stop it, but didn’t.  His sacrifice for us was not just the sacrifice of Christ, but a sacrifice the Father put himself through too.  Amazing that He would do that for us. 
As Junior was crying and crying and we tried to soothe him, I wondered if He thought we were causing his pain.  We were the ones giving him a liquid that caused burning, in his mind, were we associated with this?  Was he blaming me?  Again, I had flashes of the Passion.

About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”—which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Even the though of Junior thinking I was doing this to him made me sad.  This line of Christ’s will always carry some new meaning to me now.
If you go to the Psalm Jesus was quoting though, this sad verse transforms itself into something different.  That’s verse one (why have you forsaken), take a look at verse 9:

Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you even at my mother's breast.  From birth I was cast upon you; from my mother's womb you have been my God.  Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no-one to help.

Again, I know this is a stretch for people reading.  However, the suffering of my son, the pain, the terror, the exasperation on his face was a life changing thing, a faith changing thing.  It gave a new perspective of what our Lord God dealt with on that day.  It gives me a perspective of what he deals with every day looking at this broken Earth.

If you don’t know who Sufjan Stevens is, you should look him up.  He’s a Christian artist, but truthfully the only christian artist music I like.  You won’t hear him on KLOVE and his lyrics are vieled in mystery, but all come back to religion.  Anyway, I ran across this song of his and think it’s really cool.  (The album version sounds better than this live performance though.)

I always knew you
In your mothers arms
I have called your name
I have an idea
Placed in your mind
To be a better man
I've made a crown for you
Put it in your room
And when the bridegroom comes
There will be noise
There will be glad
And a perfect bed
And when you write a poem
I know the words
I know the sounds
Before you write it down
When you wear your clothes
I wear them too
I wear your shoes
And your jacket too
I always knew you
In your mothers arms
I have called you son
I've made amends
Between father and son
Or, if you haven't one
Rest in my arms
Sleep in my bed
There is a design
To what I did and said

HIs songs are fun to dissect.  Clearly this is Jesus or God talking to a man (I’m guessing Vito who is going into the ministry).   The part about wearing clothes; a reference to God as Man. 

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.

This is a Guest Post From My Wife… read on:

On Christmas, we watched The Nativity Story. Have you seen this movie? It was our first time watching it. It is certainly going to become a new Christmas tradition. Yes, there were some parts of it that we really probably pretty inaccurate (oh, hello wiseman showing up right after Jesus is born!) but the story itself was pretty great to see on Christmas day.

This year was a bit different for me. For the first time, I really thought about Mary’s experience. I’m not sure why but I’ve just never really focused on Mary in this story. It was always still about Jesus for me. But really, if it hadn’t been for Mary’s faith and Joseph’s patience and trust, we could be celebrating a very different Christmas story. The Nativity Story really put it into perspective for me. First, she’s tiny. The girl was like 15. That’s insane. I realize that things were done younger in those days…but come on. I’m ten years older than her and not at all ready to become a mother. Here she is, a teenager, and she not only has to become a mother but she has to become the mother to the Savior of the entire world. Oh yeah, and she has to convince her fiancé that she was still a virgin. No big deal.

Watching the movie also made me empathize with her on a purely physical basis. There I was, sitting on my couch, uncomfortable as all get out. I have certainly hit the “I can never get comfortable” phase of the pregnancy. I am rotund, people. It hurts to sit. It hurts to stand. It hurts to lie down. I am just UNCOMFORTABLE. And as I am sitting there shifting my weight, trying to get comfortable on my nice plush couch, I see Mary getting up on a flippin’ donkey about to ride on that little guy for 100 miles to Bethlehem. Seriously? I can’t get comfortable on my couch…and this girl is fixing to take a bumpy camel ride for days and days just to be counted in some census. That, my friends, is crazy talk. But she did it. Because she is so good and faithful—not just to God but to her wonderful, trusting husband.

Okay…I have a confession to make. You see, I had this grandiose vision of blogging about how different my perspective is after experiencing the Christmas season carrying my own sweet little boy. I thought I’d have some poignant words that would make you guys say, “oh yeah.” But I am realizing I don’t. I think that my experience this season was really too personal to put into words. I just can’t seem to think of the right way to describe any of what I felt as I read the familiar story and watched the Nativity Story and listened to the sermons…so I guess I’ll just keep it to myself. I don’t think I could find a way to adequately share it anyway. But I do have to say that I am grateful for the experience I had and so grateful for the insight I gained into this wonderful woman’s experience. Elizabeth was right when she said, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!” Mary was so good and so blessed. She was such a strong woman and I can only pray to have a fraction of her faith. Too bad it took me getting knocked up to realize it. But…you know what they say: God works in mysterious ways.

A couple years ago, I told Stunning that when she got pregnant to tell me by buying the WillowTree New Dad sculpture and giving it to me.

I’m not too big into this little figurines, but I thought it would be a cool and cheesy way to find out that I’m a new dad. Plus, sometimes I like to play into stereotypes and having these figurines is a good Christian stereoptype.

Anyway, I mentioned it and then I found out my wife was pregnant by her walking out of the bathroom saying, “I think I’m pregnant” and then start crying. Needless to say, that was slightly less magical than finding out through my little figurine.

This Christmas I got a great present though. The statue. I knew what it was when I was unwrapping it, but since it was in my head that I’d get this shortly before I became a father… I think unwrapping it was a bit too much to handle. Not gonna lie… couple tears got in my eyes. I’m not entirely sure why, but it did.

It came a few months late and perhaps we’re all in a better position now to give and receive it, but for sure it’s the best Christmas present I have ever been given.

I’ve wanted to talk about this for awhile.  (It’s the second post here, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to get it off my chest.)   It’s the role of not just becoming a father, but the role of having an unexpected baby.  Here’s a gift from God, but it’s been delivered to you in a time that you’re not prepared for it.

My wife just graduated law school, is working hard studying for the bar (working hard is an understatement… more like working like an underage child in a shoe factory), living in my in-laws’ guest house and I have just found a job.  There’s one good thing about the entire situation: I have a job.  It took me longer than I wanted to get one, so when I did it was with much relief.  Anyway, we’re two weeks away from the bar exam and my wife’s sister finds out she’s pregnant.  That gets Stunning (that’s my name for my wife here) thinking about herself and she begins to worry.  She takes an old generic test… one that she had from her last time of getting worried… and finds out that the baby test does nothing to calm her fears (that was her plan… take a test and not have to worry about it anymore), but it instead confirms, as in positive.

Wow.  What a way to turn a world upside down.  Stunning and I had a 5 year plan, which I included a baby in at the end of the plan and she included the baby in a 10 year plan.  What I’m about to say might be difficult for some to read and frankly now it’s difficult for me to type, but I didn’t want the child. 

There are some people in this world that try and try and try and can’t get pregnant.  There are others that want a baby more than anything else.  There are others that get pregnant right away, but lose the baby.  All of these people deserved to have a baby more than us.  There was so much guilt between the two of us about these feelings.  How do you tell other people that the gift of life you’ve created isn’t something you want.  We wouldn’t be able to travel.  We wouldn’t be able to save the money we wanted to get a house, a new car, as fast as we wanted.  There was a whole bunch of “Now we can’t” going on in both of our heads.

Well, I’m here to tell people that might be reading this… that might be in the same situation… to wait.  Step back and just wait.  As the days went by, those feelings began to fade.  They’re gone now.  I can’t describe to you how much I already love my son.  Tonight, I held my face to my wife’s belly and just listened.  You could hear him moving in there and then he started to kick or punch or head-butt my face.  There is no feeling in the world that can describe that.

I’m sorry I felt that way at the beginning.  I think more than anything it was a kind of grieving process for the passing of what could have been… That’s gone now.  Sure, I still think of my planned trip to Germany next year that won’t happen and about the Lexus IS250 that I won’t have… but they all pale in comparison to the knowledge that in March I’ll be holding my beautiful baby son.  He’s going to be magnificent.