Chronicles of Sadie

Spittin’ Image

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Sadie-watch. Day three.

Energy level… adequate.

Emotional well-being… stable for the moment.

Knowledge… still lacking, but increasing daily by miniscule increments.

All in all, the situation is secure.

She is as beautiful as ever! Last night, she slept for like four hours straight, which is just a little more than my friend, Pastor Andrew, sleeps every night. For the most part, she slept her entire day away, except for the regimented feedings and diaper changes. Laura’s feeling much better and therefore, so am I. My blessings have overflowed, as has the steady stream of welcome visitors to our little family cottage here on the fourth floor of our downtown Nashville high-rise, aka hospital. These visits have produced many things including, but not limited to:

Gifts. Yeah, try two identical pairs of University of Tennessee booties from two different people; and the funny thing is, another person almost bought the same ones. My school spirit was doubly (almost triply) stirred! Yesterday, we received a spectacular plant (a hydrangea, to be exact) that was so large it completely eclipsed the hallway just inside our door. Yeah, and I am pretty sure that the delivery guy herniated a disc lugging it down the hallway.

Anecdotes. I have noticed that our experiences here at the inception of parenthood jog the memories of parents who at one time took their own inaugural steps down this same path. We have heard dozens, if not hundreds, of amusing and helpful anecdotes from these veterans… who also seem strangely relieved when they get to go home without a newborn. Something about sleep; I’m sure it’s nothing. Nevertheless, Sadie’s arrival has taken many parents back down the winding memory lanes of their own “chronicle” adventures with their precious little ones. It is comforting to know that so many people have trod this particular path and have lived to tell about it.

Sadie Observations. These are by far the most frequently-occurring discussions in our room. From her famous gargantuan feet and “monkey toes” down to her long, lanky “piano fingers.” So many visitors, especially mommies, have the initial inclination to take off her clothes for a closer look. Sadie seems okay with it. We had a talk.

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The most recurrent observation is the ongoing debate regarding which parent she looks more like. Early polls show me in the lead by a landslide, but the other candidate is surging in certain areas of “Sadiedom,” specifically in the region of the shape of her eyes. Again, it is too early to tell for sure, but remember that if you don’t text your vote, you can’t complain about the results!

I am astounded at the mysterious conglomeration of her mommy’s features with her daddy’s. Again, I’m sure this is obvious to most people, but you don’t really experience this particular “little person puzzle” until you bundle up your tiny darling and gaze into your own eyes, flawlessly positioned as a part of her face.

My eyes, her face.

Yeah, yet another unbelievable phenomenon of parenthood, as if any more could happen in this short time. Children are reflections of their parents—the very fusion of their features. She has your nose. She’s got your puffy lips. Her smile looks just like yours—oh wait, I think that was just gas.

When Laura and I first became pregnant and began trying to conceptualize what our own particular concoction of baby would look like, I think I kind of had a “Mr. Potato head” image in my head. Maybe big eyes with tiny ears with a round nose? At first glance, it seems impossible to know how to combine two completely different countenances into one cohesive little human outcome. But somehow, her petite, delicate features are the perfect combination of Mommy and Daddy, all in flawless and balanced proportion. She possesses her own personal individuality, yet she looks like us. How amazing!

Just because we share similar features does not mean that we look exactly the same. Let’s see, I’m a twenty-nine year old man and she is a two-day old infant girl. I eat steak and she eats milk. I write books and she writes “poopy drawings.” I speak almost fluent English and she speaks a mysterious dialect known as “newborn.” Yet if I have heard it once, I have heard it a dozen times: “Sadie is the spittin’ image of her Daddy!”

Being “in” someone’s image does not mean you are their carbon copy, rather that you share certain attributes which obviously reveal your familial relation to each other. II Corinthians 3:18 (NLT) speaks of this mystery, but in a spiritual nature. So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image.

The truth is, the more we are exposed to God, the more we take on his image. In other words, we begin to look like him. What are the features of God that his children reflect? Well, I would love to have his eyes so I could see people and situations the way he doeswith wisdom and mercy. I would like to have his ears so I could hear the cries of those who are in need and respond with loving aid. His nose… well, just because.

As she grows, Sadie will become more and more like Laura and I. This does not mean she will not have her own unique characteristics; it just means she is made in our image and that our likenesses will be seen in her existence. How will she learn how to walk? By watching us walk. To talk? By listening to us. To eat?

You get the point.

How do we learn to live lives reflective of our Father? By watching and listening to him. If we observe him enough over time and actively imitate him, people just might start seeing the resemblance!


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