Easter season is usually when I re-read Christopher Moore’s “Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal.” It’s totally irreverent, but only if you allow yourself to be easily offended. I instead find it a powerful reminder of Christ’s humanity: that a real person went through everything he went through. We can fall into the trap of assuming it was all easy for him, but no–he had a human body with all the emotional and physical pain that goes along with a human life.
But this year I didn’t need to return to “Lamb” for help remembering that. Now I have a son of my own, and the impact on my understanding of God’s relationship to Jesus and both of their relationship to us, to humanity, is intense. The depth of my love for Sam is indescribable; he’s only 7 weeks old but I would still do anything to protect him, even if that meant trading my life for his. Suffering would be painful but worth it if it meant saving him; the suffering of losing him would be worse than whatever else I had to endure instead. I can empathize more clearly now with the pain God felt while Jesus was crucified for us, as well as the deep compassion they had in order to go through all of that for the trade-off of opening salvation to us.
Those were my deep thoughts at 5:00 a.m. this morning while feeding my tiny son. Life has been hard lately, so the hopefulness of Easter is encouraging!
My baby is here! Sam was born right on his due date, and is a happy, chill little guy… most of the time. Except that he hates sleeping yet fusses when he gets overtired, so it’s quite the battle for nap time every day. Motherhood is very exhausting, seeing as he eats every 2 to 3 hours around the clock, but it’s totally worth it.
I thought maybe I could get some writing done on my maternity leave, but I’ve been too exhausted to accomplish much. About 4 days ago, I decided I NEEDED to try to do some during the tiny pockets of time when I’m on my laptop. I’ve written a little bit 3 days in a row now! So that feels good. I’m extra desperate to make money as a writer because daycare is ridiculously expensive.
Anyway, in my sleepless (i.e. delirious) state, here are some silly ways I realized books are like babies:
- Babies grow bit by bit every day, and it takes a while before you notice how much they’ve truly grown. Books can be the same: just keep writing bit by bit and suddenly you will notice how much you’ve actually written.
- Babies are so dependent on their mom; she needs to take care of herself or else she won’t be able to provide properly for them (I write from experience here… every time I skip a meal or fail to drink enough water, Sam gets frustrated from my lack of milk). Similarly, if writers don’t take care of themselves–whether that’s taking the time to read good books, take walks to refresh their minds, consume something besides coffee, and so on–they will have nothing with which to fuel their writing.
- Babies, being a combination of the genetic material of both mom and dad, look a little bit like both parents in some way. A book, coming from the brain of its writer, will incorporate his/her voice and the various influences and experiences of his/her life.
- Both babies and books might cause screaming if dropped into a bath.
;) Happy writing!