where’ve you been?
this week my son, oziah james richée was born, and not a word was posted on my behalf. around wednesday (he was born on monday) i shared this fact with my wfe, who said i should put some pictures on facebook or something, but i said no. why? why would a guy who writes as often as you, as personally as you refrain from at least writing an essay for your son’s arrival, or a picture to celebrate with the world? well to be honest, i had originally intended to; i had meant to write some rousing essay on the virtues of fatherhood, the joy of life, and all kinds of other interesting things; but i didn’t. not for lack of words or sentiment, i just didn’t feel like it. i meditated on this feeling, and by wednesday when i was sharing this absence of our news in our digital lives, i had my answer: our lives,the birth of our son, the sentiment of our family and the joy of its growth is not some thing to write about or post pictures, it is a joyous moment to be experienced. have you ever been so moved by a sunset that you didn’t take a picture because that would take away from the experience of simply taking it in? have you ever heard a song and had to pull off the road to truly listen with all of your being? have you ever read a sentence in a book, then read it again, put the book down, took a sip of wine and spent the next half hour watching your mind spill over with the thoughts that one sentence can bring? sublime is defined as elevated or lofty thought, impressing the mind with a sense of grandeur or power; the birth of my son was a sublime moment in my life. throughout the Bible people encounter the sensation of the sublime repeatedly. in every instance there are three responses which occur, usually in this order:
- bowing down in awe and humility
- naming of the place and the experience
having spent the last six days in awe, the moment is ready to be named; this moment is the point in my life when i begin to see that God finds favor in me. maybe, if you’re lucky, i will expound on that point on a later date, but suffice it to say that oziah and i have already had a number of conversations about things, and he has already helped me to see a number of truths which have been staring me dead in the face for some time. ok, now it is time to worship. i have prepared a fatted calf, and the alter is ready to receive the sacrifice. my sacrifice is me; all of my desires, my wants, my dreams and aspirations-all of them i offer on the alter of my family, which stands dedicated to the LORD God on high. i will spend the rest of my life in awe of His name, His wonder, His gifts which continue to shower down on me, an unworthy child; and at all times i remeber that first tattoo which resideds at my center: SELAH! selah for His love, selah for His mercy, selah for His grace, selah for his Son. my son was born this past week, and i didn’t write a single thing about it, because i was too busy paying reverence to this moment in my life, the moment when i came to know that God has found favor in my faltering, stumble-filled and, to be honest, rather pathetic walk. selah.