All posts tagged John 3

  • This Good Friday: Nothing But the Blood

    I will never forget the morning when I saw blood on my boy for the first time. He was not quite a year old, and he had pulled a side table over on himself. It landed right across his tiny upper teeth, still soft in the gums, and nudged one of them back out of place.

    I wasn’t scared for his life. I knew he would be fine and that a few days would yield the calming perspective that is a gift from God to parents. But I lost it anyways.

    I was beside myself, perhaps at the sight of such a perfect little face disfigured, but mostly because of that unmistakable color, that crimson in his grimace.

    If you are a parent, you know the scene by heart. I’m told it never goes away, that the sight of your child’s blood is never welcome. It belongs in their veins, all of it, doing life’s work inside the bodies God entrusted to you for safe keeping so long or not so long ago. Whatever else we believe about health, no matter our differences, we hold universally to a severe dislike for the sight of blood on our kids. That is the story of parents and their children’s blood.

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  • Now We Were Four

    02 (2)

    My second was born in the coldest part of the night, the hour before sunrise. She arrived as most do, squinting and cackling her first pathetic cry, a protest against light and air and noise. The midwife placed her on Dorinda’s chest and she settled down, daughter on mother, beauty in an embrace.

    Dainty was the word for her. Seven pounds even, a feather of a thing, with dark hair on top and perfect little fingers to someday play the piano like her mom.

    After a long night of laboring, Amelia was here. She completed our nucleus; now we were four.

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