I'll go ahead and call out the elephant in the room: I'm not supposed to be writing this. I'm supposed to be sitting in a hospital room right now, sleep deprived. I'm supposed to be holding my second little girl and taking the best care I can of my post-delivery wife. But instead - here I am, writing this. Truth be told... I don't know for certain that I won't be doing those things while you are reading this.
Last week, I shared with all of you a bit about the twisted pleasure I had gotten from the hard decision of a planned delivery being more convenient since it was planned. I felt guilty then and clearly should have known I would end up with some of my shoe in my mouth when all was said and done.
At my wife's last visit, we discovered we no longer needed a planned delivery and so the typical waiting game was re-scheduled. We cried and laughed and jumped for joy and wrestled with the stress of change. I was ready to begin the process. I'm ready to meet my daughter. I'm also ready for my wife to no longer endure the late stages of pregnancy. But we don't always get to choose. And sometimes we get to choose and then that choice gets taken away. It's hard to describe the feeling other than this: it's all about control. I liked to have control over the situation. And now I don't. But - truth be told - if it was so easy to take away, who is to say I ever had it to begin with?
As we move forward as a community, I beg for your patience and covet your prayers as we move into the foggy uncertainty of the days ahead. I have a full month of scheduled sermons and newsletters - but if baby #2 decides to take her time, then I will have to shuffle the dates around and you may notice some errors here and there. It's not ideal - but it is what it is. I assure you that I am doing all in my power to provide this awesome community with as smooth of a transition as is possible. The irony, I suppose, is that baby #2 might have more authority in this community than I do currently. John Wesley would be proud to see someone take thou authority before even being born yet. Thank you for your grace, friends.