A Father's Loving Prayer
A Father’s Loving Prayer
Dr. Darryl Winer
Today, as a father, I pray.
Since you can’t be a father without a child, I guess this is actually Children’s Day.
Thirty-one years ago I prayed, as a first time Father-very-soon-to-be. My beautiful wife gloriously doing the job for us that only she could do, apparently did not only have an 8 pound baby boy reminding her of where her bladder was, but must have had his ultimate 6 foot 4 inch potential in there as well.
We have all heard the old phrase about a mother- to-be “having a bun in the oven”. Well, using that image, going anywhere exotic (say, to the bathroom) required moving both the bun and the oven.
Cursing gravity, and invoking advanced physics, along with some well designed equipment (cranes, forklifts, hoists - you get the idea) my doubled bundle could successfully be transported from place to place. Successfully, yes. Comfortably, not so much.
Every major excursion, getting out of bed for example, required planning, a few preemptory stretches, some jumping jacks, a sit-up or two, a steeling of the will, a spreadsheet and line diagram, and a calm, smiling, and sincere, “Yes, my love we can do this.”, as we interlocked hands and wrists. My feet firmly on the floor, hers, which she hadn’t seen in some time, not knowing where the floor was, much less finding it.
And then, again, I prayed.
The trip to the hospital, finally, with my car inexplicably pulling towards the right, was uneventful. As were the ensuing events there. It seems hospitals have commercial grade equipment designed for these specific instances. Burly orderlies, freight scales, rolling heavy duty beds, oversized bathroom fixtures, and freight elevators. Who knew?
Amazingly, my car’s apparent alignment problem had solved itself on the trip home.
Every day (and certainly every Children’s Day) thereafter, I prayed as that boy began growing into his potential and his shoes. Both, now, of impressive size.
Five years later, almost to the day, I prayed, as a second time Father-very-soon-to-be. A seven pound baby girl, along with what we now know was her own personal gravity, was anxious to begin getting on with herself.
Drawing upon prior experience, an intervening workout program, and a five year old to help guide and clear the way, the incubator could, once again, be maneuvered into pre-launch position.
New car, suddenly the same alignment problem. Hmmm?
I knew how to do this, I prayed double time.
The seven pounder, through a stunning force of personality, draws everyone into her orbit. Indeed, like the old artillery eight pound cannons, she’s only a bit smaller but packs the same wallop.
Every day I pray triple time, for the boy, the girl and their mother.
This is Father’s Day. Every day is.
Not cards, ties, watches, or bottles of liquor.
Healthy, loving, compassionate, and happy children. And their mother.
Today, I prayed. Again.