It Just Doesn’t Fit

Dear Lewis,

Around Easter many magazines, television shows and podcasts like to discuss whether or not the stories about Jesus are true. A lot of books and very smart people have given me good reasons to believe they are. This morning I noticed something that could never, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered proof. However, it’s too interesting for me to ignore.

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The 100 Year Prayer

Dear Lewis,

The past few days have been exhausting. All I wanted to do tonight was sit on the couch with you and your mom and watch television. But your mom was far more exhausted than I’ll ever be. So when you didn’t fall asleep after feeding tonight she told me to take you so she could get some sleep. I tried to console you, but you wouldn’t stop crying and you definitely wouldn’t go to sleep. Luckily, I have a trick that, so far, always works.

The walking path from the street to our building is made of old clay bricks. Not one brick is level or flush with another. It makes for a rough ride in your stroller, and you love it. You’ve even been known to stop crying the moment we get on the bumpy path. Tonight it took forty-five minutes of walking back and forth along the same twenty-five-foot path for you to fall asleep.

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What Have You Done?

Dear Lewis,

From the moment I got home tonight you’ve been asleep. I made dinner, went to the store for your mom, and then read a few chapters of Princess Academy. Meanwhile, you haven’t done a thing.

You haven’t made a cute face to make me smile. You haven’t gripped my finger and warmed my heart. You haven’t done anything for me today. You’ve never done anything for me. You’ve only ever taken: taken my sleep, my time, my energy, my money, my patience, and even my wife.

But still, I love you.

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The Eucatastrophe

Dear Lewis,

When I was a kid my least favorite day to go to church was Easter. As a pastor’s son Easter Sunday meant being at church from sunup to sundown. It meant constantly being asked where the bathrooms were located. It meant playing some bit part in a horrible Easter play. It meant everything I didn’t like about church became exacerbated.

Even after I moved away from home I had a rocky relationship with Easter Sunday. Sometimes I went, sometimes I didn’t. The crowds were still out of control; the “dramas” – as they became known – were still embarrassing; and, without fail, someone always asked me about the bathrooms.

But, a few years ago I read an explanation of Easter that resonated with something at the core of who I am. It didn’t come from a pastor or a theologian. It came from a wizard; it came from Tolkien.

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Under Pressure

Dear Lewis,

Today you started tummy time. Because your neck muscles aren’t very strong you mostly lay on your back, swiveling your head from one side to the other. Since you can’t hold your head up on your own it’s very important that we support your neck when we hold you. Tummy time is supposed to change that.

Three times a day we’re supposed to lay you on your tummy, arms near your head, and let you push yourself up off the play mat. By doing this you’ll strengthen your neck muscles and soon be able to hold your head up on your own. We were also told to push down gently on your butt so you’d be forced to use your neck and shoulder muscles to lift your head.

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