Caleb's Baby Dedication

C.S. Lewis

I married a philosopher. He invites new ideas in. He listens, contemplates, tests. He's not a smoker, but if he were, it would be a pipe. He'd rest in a large armchair in a wood-paneled library asking you to expound on your previous statement. When I met I Paul, he was mid-thought on a philosophy called Determinism. In my understanding, Determinism outlaws the concept of free will, postulating that the universe is strictly cause and effect. Your decisions? Reactions. Followed though its full course, it is a dark and lonely place. I watched that handsome man mull it over, reach his conclusion, and move forward.

In my short and sheltered life, I hadn't met anyone so willing to discuss the possibilities of how and why life happens. If you're wondering what this has to do with Caleb's baby dedication, here's the crux: The philosopher found his philosophy when Christ found him in 2003. I'll leave the jewel of that story for Paul to tell, but it makes me think of this quote by C.S. Lewis: "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."

The philosopher I married chose the verse for Caleb's baby dedication: Proverbs 23:26. The context of the verse made me hesitant at first, but as Paul explained why he chose it, I couldn't think of a better verse for the occasion. "My son, give me your heart, and let your eyes observe my ways." It's an invitation for our son to watch us live out our faith, practicing forgiveness and kindness in our home and in our community, seeking God's approval rather than man's, learning to love like Christ, obeying the One who gave everything for us, growing in our knowledge of God and who we are in Him.

We have no greater hope for Caleb then for him to discover the Lord for himself. "Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him." (Psalm 34:8). Caleb's baby dedication was a chance for us to commit to this hope.

Cool Jazz and the Gummy Bear

Dear Caleb,

Ever since we visited Michigan in July and Aunt Dani introduced you to the Gummy Bear Song, we have a cure-all for almost any unpleasant situation (it does not, however, distract you from the pain of a shot at the doctor's office - yes, we stooped so low). You are so into this song, that it will stop you mid-cry. For example, when you were having a meltdown at your birthday party, Uncle Dan pulled out the magic song on his phone.


When you're in a good mood, you start head bobbing before the first note even begins. My initial thought was that you loved the cartoon, since you are still a t.v. virgin for the most part. But your response is almost identical, even when you only hear the music. You just like to get down.

It's not just strange animated dance music that catches your attention. You also love jazz. Cool jazz, to be exact. Miles Davis style. You are such a funny kid. It amazes me that you are so laid back, so happy-go-lucky.

Here are a couple of recent shots of you.

You look a little star-struck in this photo with your Great Uncle Greg and Great Aunt Lisa. This was your first time meeting Greg, since you were still brewing when we visited them in July 2011. You were itty-bitty when you met Lisa at my cousin Melanie's wedding.

We went to the zoo for your birthday with your friend Mina and my friend Erin. Umm . . . why is no one else looking at the camera in this shot?  

 You enjoyed all the sights, especially when Grandpa took you up close.

A few weeks before the zoo, we visited the Kane County Fair. I love this shot of you and your dad. You love him an incredible amount. I don't blame you. I do too.

On a Floating Star

We have friends with a pool who invited us over for an evening of grilled food and chlorine.

It was Caleb's first time in a big pool. Not a fan. He survived, thanks to the floating star - which he found more comforting than either of his parents' arms. Most of the evening, he looked like this: