Hearing Voices

A few days ago, on November 4th at 8:05 a.m., I became a father.

The weirdest bit was to see this purpleish blob emerge from my wife's butt like something out of a Sci-fi movie--especially when the doctor twisted the blob and revealed that it had a face! Seriously! It reminded me of a Tales from the Crypt episode!

But then they took him out, let me cut the cord, cleaned him up a little, swaddled him, and placed him in my arms.

Like all newborns (or so I would presume) Koen screamed and cried as though the world was coming to an end. But at the moment I said, "I love you, Koen," he stopped crying and looked at me.

He stopped crying at the sound of my voice and looked at me.

It was as though he was saying, "Hey, I know you. You're my daddy."

He stopped crying. I became a blubbering idiot. Let's move on.

God spoke to me in that moment, reminding me that this was how He feels when I stop crying and recognize His voice.

That same day, Obama was elected as our next president. I'll confess, I'm not thrilled with the prospect. I don't like his policies, and I have to wonder if such a racially charged nation is really ready for a black president. I have no problems with it personally, but I can see it becoming an issue.

I found myself singing, "It's the end of the world as we know it." I did the same thing on 9/11, imagining my view zooming out on the smoking remains of the World Trade Center until I envisioned the planet resting in God's hands. "And I feel fine." It helped put things in perspective, back then.

November 5th, however, as I processed recent events, the last line of that song didn't come as easily. I had just helped my wife deliver a son into a country who'd just elected a president who wouldn't have valued Koen's life a day earlier. Like a lot of Republicans across the nation, I didn't feel fine. By the evening of November 5th, anarchy had become my new favorite word. Not political anarchy, per se, but just the need to rage against a world that seems to consider thinking an intolerable inconvienence. I wanted to start a cult of spiritual anarchy against the church for being so staunchly religious, it wasn't able to follow Jesus. I wanted to sit at home and write novels so outlandish and bizarre that they would border on literary terrorism.

But then, I got back to the hospital where my wife and son were waiting. Jill slept while I held Koen in my arms. He cried again, and though I tried to assure him it was alright, he cried anyway.

"I know the feeling," God said.

It's the end of the world as we know it, because I'm a parent now. They're right when they say it changes everything.

It's the end of the world as we know it, because Obama will be our next president. He's proud to the point of being cocky, and when that pride leads him to that predestined fall, I hope he doesn't take this country with him.

But though it's the end of the world as we know it, God remains unchanged.

Once again, I'm able to see Him holding us in His hands...

...and I feel fine.