Post 5: The Visit

One of the joys of being a parent for 10 days is that anything seems possible for your child. The reality of limitations haven’t yet set in, and this allows me to fantasize about what my son will be doing 20 years from now.

Those who know my story are aware that aside from the Great Commission, one of my dreams is to see the United States win the World Cup. I grew up playing the Beautiful Game as a child, and there was a brief period of time when I entertained the thought of playing professionally. I surrendered this dream by my mid-teen years as I came to terms with my physical attributes were only above average, not extraordinary. But soccer was my first love, and I find myself attached to this sport and our US National Team like no other. When I feel sad, I go to youtube and watch replays of Landon Donovan’s goal in the 90th minute against Algeria that allowed the US Team to win its group and sent us through to the round of 16 in the 2010 games. I’m not sure what it is- perhaps it’s because soccer is the greatest sport in the world, and it’s the one sport where the US is clearly an underdog. But after we learned in week 18 that we were having a son, I immediately began to just dream and imagine what it would be like for my son to lead the US Men’s National Team to a World Cup title in 2030 or 2034. Hey- I figured the odds of us even making it to 4 months given our history was 1 in a big number- why not ponder him being 1 in an even bigger number?

This brings me to last week’s visit to the pediatrician. We get to the doctor’s office, and our physician is this woman named Monica who’s a nice blend of warmth and competence. She’s going through the routine battery of tests that they do for newborns, and she places my son on his tummy. Lo and behold, he flipped himself over onto his back. I didn’t think much of it, but our physician had this startled look on her face. Apparently, this is something babies do at 3 months, not 4 days. She couldn’t contain her excitement, and she remarked that she had never seen a baby do this at this age. She waves over to her colleagues about what my boy just did, and she starts to call him “the little Olympian”. She turns to the parents and asks if there’s an athletic heritage in the family. I’m sitting there with my arms folded trying my best to contain my excitement, but I mutter somewhat bashfully, “Well, I was once a soccer player”. The doctor responds, “Well, he appears to have very strong legs too.” She puts him on his belly again, and sure enough, he flips over again onto his back. I’m immediately transported to July 18th, 2030 and my son is making an overlapping run from the left wingback position in the 94th minute of a 1-1 tie between the United States and Brazil in the World Cup Final and a perfect through ball is placed by the central midfielder and S runs onto it and hits it in stride and the ball is thrust like a laser into the upper 90 just past the outstretched hands of the Brazilian keeper.

I suppose all parents do this at some level. We so desperately want our kids to experience and accomplish things that eluded us. At the same time, I warn myself that it’s very easy to become the kind of parent that tries to live his unfulfilled dreams through the children. Prior to S’s arrival, my pastor sat down with me and reminded me that my son does not belong to me, but that he really does belong to the Lord. He knows me too well. Ironically enough, he’s named after the prophet in the Old Testament who’s mother said, “I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the LORD.” I hope I have the courage and wisdom to live by those words in the coming years.

But for now, I still daydream from time to time about the summer of 2030... ;)