HE IS NOT LIKE ME
I was not what you would call a ‘baby person’. I wouldn’t jump up and down with excitement at the sight of a new baby, neither would I ask their weight or what time they were born at and I wouldn’t huff if I didn’t get a cuddle. Babies all looked the same to me and behaved the same; they ate, sleep, cry, wind and pooed. If a friend or family member had a baby I would do well to remember the sex and name, to be honest all the hype was just wasted on me I’m afraid.
When my wife became pregnant with our first son, all that began to change as something slowly began to awaken in me. I’ll call it my paternal instincts as I am not sure what else to call it but it was a nice warm feeling mixed with responsibility and duty. I would ride my motorcycle and all of a sudden feel like my family could suffer if I had an accident, I felt vulnerable. I began to watch baby programmes on T.V and even read books on fatherhood. I asked Pastors and church leaders for advice on managing my time between family and ministry. I liked the changes that were happening but I was however a little anxious, how would I cope with sleepless nights and nappies. My dad, so I am told, never changed a nappy once on his three sons. How times have changed; now a man is expected to fulfil all the duties of a women with the exception of breast feeding (thank God!) Apart from a baby in Romania (on a mission trip) I had never changed a nappy and that was just a wet one; what would I do with a stinker? There was every chance I would vomit over the baby.
The Ultra sound scan at 14 weeks blew me away. Some people told me I would see the baby’s head and body, others said I may not see much at all just a grey blob. Marcus Berkmann writes in his book entitled ‘Fatherhood’ that ‘this looks like a photocopy of a photocopy of an artist’s impression of a stoat’. So I didn’t go with any great expectations. All I wanted was a doctor to say that mother and baby are doing fine. But baby Noah decided to put on a show for mummy and daddy; we could see his hands, arms, legs the outline of a face and he wriggled and moved when we wanted him to and posed for a photo at the right times. Now all that was very cute but seeing the heart beat left me in awe, the beauty and wonder of human life. To be honest sometimes the doctor would point at the screen and say, “that’s the baby’s leg” and I would look and give a nod of agreement when I couldn’t make out anything, but other times when he would pause the screen I was mesmerised as I watched and saw the shape of our tiny baby. But the picture of the heart; seeing it beating on the screen, knowing that the baby was alive and well, that just made me want to throw a party.
Fast forward 13 years and he’s all grown up. He’s a best mate, but he’s not like me: He is good at maths, I only used maths to count from 501 down and end on a double 16. He can read a big book in one week with ease. I struggled to read a bi-weekly edition of the Beano in two weeks. He is good at long distance running, I was a sprinter. He is patient, me!? Lol. His temperament is not the same as mine.
He is not like me.
Last night in the prayer event for #JustOneBelfast at C.S Lewis Square I watched Noah. At the opposite side from me I could see him join hands with strangers and pray over our city… My heart skipped a beat as I heard a whisper in my soul: ‘He is just like me.’ ‘He’s made in my image, I put my Spirit within him. He’s just like me.’ After the prayer event I watched Noah and his sister laugh and jump around under the statue of Aslan and again I hear that whisper: ‘He’s just like me.’
Dad’s: let’s be carful we don’t make comparisons. To try and make our children fit our mould. They are your kids but they are not here to fulfil your unfulfilled dreams… and let’s never say ‘why can’t you be a ….. like your dad.’ Study your kids. The greatest gift you can give them and yourself is not riches, but revealing to them the love of God and releasing them to form into His likeness.
Thank God he is not like me.
Mitch
Love ya Noah Mitchell for who you are.
