As you can tell, these days I’m enjoying spending time with my wife and daughter –instead of posting on the blog. But can you blame me?! Have you seen how cute Baylor is?
I thought I’d post today, though, just to share with you guys what’s happening these days in Tanzania, and what’s on my mind:
Thank you to everyone who prayed for a safe delivery — but even more so, praise be to God. Baylor is still just as healthy as can be. She was born at 7 lbs, 10 oz, and, after losing a little weight the first couple of days, is back up to that same mark today. We finally got her measured, and she’s 20 1/2 inches long… her height would be from me, not from my beautiful, but short, wife. Thank you, also, for praying for a private room (of which the maternity ward only has two). They are not able to be reserved, and unless you’re in one, your visitors (even husbands) are limited to 3 particular hour-long slots during the day. We not only had a private room, but it had air conditioning, which was a very pleasant surprise (in 95 degree Dar weather). They even gave me two extra blankets and a pillow, so I could sleep on the floor. And I needed the blankets, as cold as Christie kept the room. I think she was taking advantage of the air conditioner to make it feel like Christmas time.
Today is Christie’s 30th birthday! That’s a big one. We plan to eat Italian food while overlooking the Indian Ocean. Hopefully Baylor will be agreeable to our decision. Later tonight we’re going to watch Elf with some friends here in Dar. Also, Christie is excited that I’m making her a strawberry birthday cake with cream cheese icing (direct from the US of A). Happy birthday to my beautiful wife, who challenges me every day to be more like Christ (not that he makes cake… but he could. It would be good, too. The best).
Baylor now has a Tanzanian birth certificate! We also got all the paperwork to apply for a social security card and passport with the U.S. Embassy. We’ll probably try to turn all that stuff in, complete with little baby passport pictures (in which Baylor’s eyes must be open…), next Tuesday.
Now, about this conspiracy. Don’t act like you don’t know… all you parents out there…. None of you ever told us how little sleep we’d get the first week of our baby’s life. You kept it from us on purpose! How dare you. [So when do we get to be in the club, and hide it from other people, so we can kind of snicker together with all of you when we realize there are others who have no earthly idea what they’re getting into..?]
When Baylor is crying, and she’s not wet or dirty, and we don’t think she’s hungry, and she’s not getting a shot,* generally I will walk around with her and sing praise songs. Sometimes it settles her, and she goes to sleep. Sometimes it doesn’t. But I want you to know that it has really been a blessing for me — just to sing songs of praise to our wonderful God. God is so good, and it’s important (to us) that we just let him know sometimes how good we believe he is. And, for me at least, a song seems to do that much more clearly than does a prayer before my meal. I hope in singing to God, I can influence Baylor to love to praise him as well.
On a similar note, let me encourage you to try something that might be different in your personal time with God. Lately we’ve been so busy with Baylor that my study time has become less study and more prayer and reflection (which is just fine with me, as long as I get back to the study before too much time has passed). Anyway, if you don’t already, you should consider taking some time each day to just sit and listen to God. Ask him if he has anything he’d like to share with you. Ask him if he has anyone he’d like for you to pray for, or speak to. Or don’t ask him anything at all… just be in his presence and enjoy him, basking in the great love that he has for you. You’ll be blessed.
*Baylor got her first two shots yesterday, and it was so difficult to watch her in pain, as her entire body turned purple and she screamed with such an intensity that no sound came out. Christie and I both just cried. She has an excuse… hormones. Me, I’m just a sissy.