Life is settling into a “new normal” – whatever
normal was in the first place. It’s been four months since we’ve been thrust
into life in the neonatal intensive care unit and no one has died from the
experience. Are we perpetually tired? Yep. I have a hard time staying awake but
that’s nothing new; that has been the case since early 2001 due to lifestyle
choices and the unpredictable nature of the NICU. Eventually, we have to buck
up, remember that this is a season, and normalcy will come back in due time.
One major note from the Dad Chronicles that everyone should acknowledge is regardless of
your past goodness and upright lifestyle, storms are a part of life. It may be
a thundershower, a tornado, or hurricane with F-5 winds – it doesn’t really
matter, a storm is a storm. More often than not, the scariest parts of storms
are the random thunder claps and lightning strikes and torrential downpours.
Consider this: as children, we knew that
stormy weather automatically equaled indoor play. Board games and 7-Up!
replaced outdoor kickball and chase – back in the ‘80s, Sony only delved in
high-end electronics, Microsoft was in its infancy, and Nissan actually made
good cars that people wanted with normal transmissions. Another thing from
those childish days was that you can tell that the kids who usually misbehaved
in school are silent during the severe weather! Those moments during which may
seem like the storm might not ever let up are the ones which ultimately make us
stronger, as they imply we are in the eye – sunny days and a rainbow in the sky
are imminent.
The “new normal” is parenthood. Caeli has needs far
greater than my own wishes, and I have to buck up and be the father God has
commissioned me to become; ditto for being Chastity’s husband, beyond that
“dude payin’ bills around here” rant and purveyor of a good time. It’s okay to
feel sad, overwhelmed, and perhaps even a bit angry; however, I eventually have
to find my way back to normal. For example, I have not volunteered at the food
ministry in town nor completed the logistics for the church’s own food pantry
since February. I’ve used leave as an excuse not to resume life as I knew it
previously, but it is time to come back. Would it be believable if I told you
that I am a board member of CJOHN (Churches Joint on Human Needs) or a
deacon-in-training at Mount Zion if you never saw me? I need to show up and
play an active role that others may see the living testimony called being
Caeli’s daddy and all of the other titles and descriptions used to befit me.
During the rodeo, the cowboys who ride bulls do so
always knowing the risks involved. For every time one can stay on the bull for
eight seconds without being bucked, numerous cowboys suffer broken bones,
concussions, lost teeth, punctured lungs, and even death stemming from their
injuries. Does that stop them from climbing onto the saddle? No. Until a forced
retirement happens – Father Time is still undefeated – they keep climbing on
the Brahma bull and keep riding. Even after broken bones sideline them for
months, professional bull riders yearn to go back to work, for it provides an
adrenaline rush.
Hezekiah turned toward the wall and prayed. 2 Kings 20:2
— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) June 14, 2015
Similarly, Hezekiah had to buck up late in his life.
The king led an upright life which resulted in many of Israel’s successes
although his reign was bookended by his evil father Ahaz and son Manasseh.
Upon contracting a potentially fatal illness, he turned to the wall and prayed.
Hezekiah had every opportunity to wave the white flag, yet his unwavering belief
and deeply authentic prayer to God are what cured him. Of course, he had to
follow other instructions to receive the full blessing given to him: an extra fifteen years to live. In an earlier
post, I mentioned time is the one commodity we cannot control, only manage; God
gave Hezekiah additional time.
What are you doing with the extra time allotted to
you daily?
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