New Perscription...

Today at a doctor's appointment, Rachel and I got a new prescription:

Go on more dates.

It seems that a doctor can tell us in a 15 minute appointment (that took 2.25 hours of waiting to actually get to) that we need to spend more time together and taking care of each other. It's an easy thing to forget in the name of something as important as taking care of a newborn in the hospital. It's funny; our friends and family have been telling us the same thing. Something that makes me feel good about going on a date is that it's really an investment in Christopher and any more kids that we may be blessed with to keep our marriage strong and our spirits refreshed. The NICU scene can be very draining in ways that you don't always notice right away.

I saw something today that I should have taken a picture of but didn't. It was both about the saddest thing and the most promising thing I've ever seen. In a Blockbuster parking lot near us, there is this tiny triangle of grass, probably no more than 6-7 square feet in size. The green grass is surrounded by an asphalt curb and raised up about 8 inches off of the blacktop lot. It's literally a tiny island of green surrounded by a sea of lifeless, tarry blacktop. At first, I was genuinely saddened by the sight of it. As a lover of nature and all things out-of-doors (except big spiders), it was depressing to see this struggling patch of life that had been cruelly entombed by concrete. It seemed hopeless and totally unfair. A tree could never survive on the amount of earth present there, only something small, like grass. And the grass could only survive there, not thrive, because it couldn't grow outside of its hardened surroundings...the only thing beyond its concrete walls is lifeless blacktop. But then I thought of something that made me smile.

With enough time, nature would win. I've been to Greece, and seen ruins of ancient buildings that have survived three or four millennia, but they had to be unearthed in order to be seen. Take a look at an abandoned house...it only takes a few seasons for nature to take over and for plants to break windows, uproot foundations and for the entire structure to be unrecognizable. In some ways, I feel like we are living with that kind of potential. Right now, Christopher is growing and struggling in a tiny plastic box. He is very limited, his environment is sterile, and outside of him all he can see are other tiny boxes with struggling life - an asphalt landscape with the occasional grassy triangle. But given time, a moment will come when nature will take over and my son will grow big and wild and ready to take over everything around him and change it. He'll outgrow his box and be too strong to be merely contained. Sooner or later, he'll come home, our foundations will be uprooted, and we can begin the life that we were meant to simply live and steadily grow before God.

When that happens, I'm going to rent a backhoe, go to Blockbuster, and plant a tree.

--Andy