Hopes for my children

Baby dedications were happening at the church we attended last weekend. It was here, if you must know. One particular dedication struck me: that of a family dedicating three children they'd adopted last month. I don't know any particulars. Were they brothers and sister prior to adoption? Were they the children of relatives? I don't know anything, but it moved me.

But digress.

What I really want to write about is the "life verse" practice. Each family had a verse picked out for the each child being dedicated. Not a bad practice. I suppose the verses are the hopes of those parents for those children. It led me to ask what I would cite for my children.

The immediate answer that came to mind was, "Weep with those who weep." As I sat there, I started thinking through that passage from Romans 12, realizing that I don't think I could do a life verse. I love context too much. It would have to be a life passage.

Here's the passage within some context:

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.
Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.
Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation.
Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men.
If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men.
Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay,” says the Lord.
“But if your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.”
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:14-21)

I can't explain why this stands out to me, but as I sat there ruminating the text, I can to the conclusion that, yes, this is what I want for my boys. It's what I want to see in me. I don't think it's an idealistic picture of life. It's a call to really live.

I'm not there. I hope to be. I hope my boys will be.

And just to be provocative: It's difficult to never pay back evil, to feed an enemy, and to overcome evil with good when pointing a gun at that enemy.

From the mouths of babes

I took a walk Thursday afternoon and had a thought: If my son could express his thoughts more fully, what would he be thinking right now? What questions would he be asking? What would he think of his daddy?

My eldest taking a picture of my with his "camera".

Below is what I think he might be thinking:


I like it here in the US. I only have to wear one shirt in the house, not a full wardrobe like in China. I wonder when we'll go back and see grandma and grandpa and uncle and auntie. I miss the playground and the other boys outside our home.

I like playing with kids here, but we always have to sit in the car for so long before we see any of them. My favorite is when my cousin comes over. But mama says we won't see him so much. I don't know why they said that, but it makes me sad. They said I'll make new friends. Again?

What happened to our food? What happened to the food grandma used to make. Why do we basically only have spinach? What happened to all the other green leafy vegetables? And what's with casseroles? Seriously, people here eat that?

I'm not sure why daddy's home all day. I like seeing him. He doesn't seem like he likes seeing me. He spends all day typing on the computer or talking on the phone. He gets angry all me a lot when I'm playing, especially when grandpa's home, or when I hit the dog or my brother. He says I'm too loud. He seems sad. I don't what I should do.

I hate doctors. And dentists! Fie on them!

My little brother sure has to go to the doctor a lot. Mom and dad say he's sick. He doesn't seem sick. Well, he does have a runny nose, I guess, but so do I.

Mostly I just need to keep an eye on mama. I remember she was gone for a long time before we came to the US. I can't let her out of my sight now. If she's gone again, maybe I won't find her again. Amos knows what I mean; that's why he cries for mama all the time. Why can he do it but I can't?

I can't wait until grandma gets home so we can play blocks.


My goal over the next few weeks is to give my kids the relaxed fun daddy; I fear they've become too accustomed to the stress-out, on-edge daddy.