"I thirst."
Duality.
Addiction.

It's so epic that Christ claims to be 100% God and 100% man. You'd think that would add up to 200% which doesn't make any sense.

"That doesn't make any sense."

That's the statement people have problems with. Well, obviously, if it doesn't make any sense, then it's not true.

Well, no.

There are things that don't make any sense to you now, but they are still true.

I guess we could get deep into it, but just know for now that I really believe that He was 100% man and 100% God. It doesn't make sense to a simple human mind like mine, but that doesn't mean it's not true. It's a mystery and a miracle. I believe in and love mysteries and miracles.

Here's the tie in to my life.

I want Isaiah to thirst. I want him to want more. I want him to battle and fail and battle some more and battle 'til he thinks he's got nothing left and then I want him to dig even deeper and discover more and eventually overcome everything in his path. I want him to devour obstacles and setbacks and difficulties and chew them up and spit them out and yearn for more. I want him to have that intellectual, and physical, and spiritual, and emotional thirst for more.

But at the same time, I want him to be completely comfortable with himself and who he is. I want him to stand up to untruth, peer pressure, insecurity, and guilt. I want him to be able to look in the mirror and be okay with what he sees. I want him to be internally content.

I want him to be simultaneously content and thirsty.
Just as Jesus was simultaneously human and divine.

Is it possible to be both? Content and thirsty, human and divine?
I'm trying to live my life like it is.
I believe in miracles.

--

We are trying to wean (not ween) Isaiah off his binky.
We had him "trade" his binky in to the lady at the Disney store for a Leo Little Einstein's doll.
It went well at the store. He was happy.
But when it was time to go to bed, I learned the consequences of my decision to give Isaiah a pacifier the night we brought him home and he wouldn't stop crying.

This might sound melodramatic, but last night was the equivalent of what I've seen on TV and in movies as a heroine junkie begging for a hit.

He was very upset and crying and screaming for his binky.
I held him and tried to sing and tried to explain to him, but he was inconsoleable. He cried himself to sleep in my arms. Somewhere in the middle of his pain I understood the enormity of parenthood. I made a choice 2.5 years ago that gave my 5 day old son comfort then. That choice led to a display synonymous with drug addiction 2.5 years later. What choices am I making today that give my sons, my family, my friends comfort now, but will have significant consequences later? When did my decisions begin to carry so much gravity? Am I qualified to make these decisions? Probably not.

Thank you Lord for the perfect wife for me.

Anyone want to speculate where I would be without Annalisa?