The world was made in sport, for sports; economy is worth only a smile. There are more serious things to laugh at...Food is the daily sacrament of unnecessary goodness, ordained for a continual remembrance that the world will always be more delicious than it is useful. Necessity is the mother only of cliches. It takes playfulness to make poetry.
-Robert Farrar Capon, The Generous Ox, The Supper of the Lamb; A Culinary Reflection
This week my mind has been preoccupied with fear. The fear of a loss of control over my life, my future, my path. I suppose fear always follows that loss. Anger, in my life, is guaranteed to always follow fear. Which leads me down the all too familiar path of hurt. Hurting the one I love the most. This is the path I walk and it is well worn.
God created this life to enjoy it. Economy, money it's all a joke. The world was made in sport, for sport. And yet time and time again I find a way to make the sport into a very serious concern.
I'm afraid Bea is pregnant. I'm afraid I won't be able to provide for my family. I'm afraid my friends will find me to be a burden to be around. I'm afraid my church community will judge me. I'm afraid my parents will look down upon me. I'm afraid I will be a bad father. I'm afraid I'll be a bad husband. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid.
That fear comes out as angry and worry. It's eating me up. I'm not ready. What do I have to offer new life? It feels selfish to usher in a new life when the table isn't set for them but I wanted to preform the action that creates life.
I wanted all the control. I want the connection without the result. I want the intimacy, the expression, without the commitment.
Jesus please don't let her be pregnant. Not because I don't want her to be the mother of my child. Not because I don't want a child but because this isn't the best for our child. I want the table to be set. I want the stage to be prepped. I want to give our child the time, the love, the attention our child deserves. At this point I am not ready. What were we thinking? our actions were saying we are ready but we aren't.
Jesus I'm so afraid. What if I'm a mean dad? What if I'm bad? What if my child doesn't feel wanted?
I can't stop thinking about this. Why won't her period just hurry up and get here?
All of this worry could be for nothing. Or our lives will forever be changed.
This fear within me makes me feel like such a coward. Is this how a man should act? Am I a man? What kind of man does it take to be a father? Do I have that within me?
I just want to run. And the fact that I want to run makes me so disappointed in myself. I want to be that strong in control man. The one that can handle any and everything all the while being the rock of strength Bea can turn to as she gets worried.
But I'm not. This isn't a movie. This is reality. This is my life, our life, a new human's life. This feels really serious. What were we doing having sex in the first place? I'm not ready for that.
I am paralyzed.
mewithoutYou - Red Cow
-Robert Farrar Capon, The Generous Ox, The Supper of the Lamb; A Culinary Reflection
This week my mind has been preoccupied with fear. The fear of a loss of control over my life, my future, my path. I suppose fear always follows that loss. Anger, in my life, is guaranteed to always follow fear. Which leads me down the all too familiar path of hurt. Hurting the one I love the most. This is the path I walk and it is well worn.
God created this life to enjoy it. Economy, money it's all a joke. The world was made in sport, for sport. And yet time and time again I find a way to make the sport into a very serious concern.
I'm afraid Bea is pregnant. I'm afraid I won't be able to provide for my family. I'm afraid my friends will find me to be a burden to be around. I'm afraid my church community will judge me. I'm afraid my parents will look down upon me. I'm afraid I will be a bad father. I'm afraid I'll be a bad husband. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid.
That fear comes out as angry and worry. It's eating me up. I'm not ready. What do I have to offer new life? It feels selfish to usher in a new life when the table isn't set for them but I wanted to preform the action that creates life.
I wanted all the control. I want the connection without the result. I want the intimacy, the expression, without the commitment.
Jesus please don't let her be pregnant. Not because I don't want her to be the mother of my child. Not because I don't want a child but because this isn't the best for our child. I want the table to be set. I want the stage to be prepped. I want to give our child the time, the love, the attention our child deserves. At this point I am not ready. What were we thinking? our actions were saying we are ready but we aren't.
Jesus I'm so afraid. What if I'm a mean dad? What if I'm bad? What if my child doesn't feel wanted?
I can't stop thinking about this. Why won't her period just hurry up and get here?
All of this worry could be for nothing. Or our lives will forever be changed.
This fear within me makes me feel like such a coward. Is this how a man should act? Am I a man? What kind of man does it take to be a father? Do I have that within me?
I just want to run. And the fact that I want to run makes me so disappointed in myself. I want to be that strong in control man. The one that can handle any and everything all the while being the rock of strength Bea can turn to as she gets worried.
But I'm not. This isn't a movie. This is reality. This is my life, our life, a new human's life. This feels really serious. What were we doing having sex in the first place? I'm not ready for that.
I am paralyzed.
mewithoutYou - Red Cow