First off, I really want to thank Jennifer, Kelly, and Eric, who proved themselves to be really good sharers. If you haven't yet, feel free to respond with your own "Better know a VRCC'er". I reall y like it when we get to know each other better.
To encourage that spirit of sharing, let me open up about something. Jennifer and I are so not prepared to be parents! We were given the opportunity to babysit little Kaleb Wages who, if you are not familiar with him, may be the best baby I've ever come into contact with. I've rarely seen him cry, and he seems incredibly comfortable with strangers. So, Jennifer and I assumed we were getting an easy assignment when Rachel mentioned that they needed a babysitter. "Easy" might be an over statement. Now, don't get me wrong. Kaleb was still the perfect baby, crying only when he was hungry, which is the most natural of reactions and one I employ quite frequently myself when I don't get lunch as quickly as I like. Still, I was unprepared for the physical and mental concentration that it takes to care for another life, and needless to say I have a new found respect for each of you who devote yourself to a child (Good Luck, Swan!). Long story short, Jennifer and I love all of your kids, but we are not ready to have any that we can't give back at the end of the day.
The picture to the left is from our NC Spring Break vacation, which I find myself reflecting on more and more as the TAKS test approaches (five more days to get my kids ready). As I have mentioned on my personal blog, flying a kite was one of the most restful things that we did while in Kitty Hawk, but it got me to thinking about the analogy of a kite. In order to make a kite fly, you have to hold the string very tight, for without that tension, the wind will not catch the kite and it will fall to the ground like a rock. However, the art of kite flying is also in knowing when to let go of the tension and allow the kite to soar. There is a balance. If I do not use enough tension, the kite will not fly. If I keep constant tension, the kite will never be free to ascend. I think this is like life. Without some sort of tension pulling at me (pressures of work, obligations of church, bills, "honey-do's" from Jennifer), I always crash by becoming directionless, staying in bed or wasting away in front of TV. If there is too much tension, however, I am only hovering and not soaring. I lose creativity and purpose, only surviving to the next chore and not recognizing the beauty of life. The art is in balancing the two, I guess. Right now, I could use a little less of the tension and a little more of the soaring. How about you?