Feeding A Baby

Cory and his wife Christine recently had a baby; they named Cora Sage, but call her "Sage". This baby is so incredibly cute & calm. I had never seen her cry...until last Sunday.

James was holding her and sitting in the chair next to me. She stared at me with those big blue eyes and I was hooked. I was like putty in her tiny little hands.

Maybe I was just making it up, but I could have SWORN that she was reaching for me. As she sat on James’ lap, it looked like she wanted ME to hold her, so I asked James if I could. He obliged. He handed me her tiny little body and I pulled her close to my chest.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve held a baby. It’s been a while. Additionally, I’m not sure that I’ve ever held a baby that young: 4 months old just the other day.

We sat there face to face only inches away. She was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Her tiny little arms seemed to be embracing me as much as possible. Out of curiosity, she began to grab and play with my beard; so tiny and gentle.

As I held her, I asked Cory “does she EVER cry?” He told me that she cries when she’s hungry or tired...and that’s about it.

Apparently she began to get hungry. It happened in an instant. One minute she was staring wide eyed at the people surrounding the table, the next minute she was squirming, arching her back, and letting out a wail. On the outside I may have looked composed, but on the inside I began to panic. This baby was giving me a bad rep! She was perfectly fine while everyone else was holding her, but 3 minutes after I get her she starts crying. What do I do!?

Christine to the rescue. She asked me to continue to hold Sage and Christine whipped out her baby bag faster than you could say pampers. She pulled out a bottle as if from a holster, grabbed a bottle of Dasani, found the powered formula (already measured to perfection) and mixed a batch of fresh baby milk.

I was fully ready to hand Sage back to her mother as Christine finished preparing the bottle, but as she tightly closed the lid, she said “You’re welcome to feed her, or I will if you don’t feel comfortable.”

Uh oh...I hadn’t planned for this. I was on the spot. Sure I could have wimped out and handed Sage back to her mother, but I gave myself a pep talk...I knew I was better than that. I decided to finish what had been started. I was up for the challenge.

What seemed somewhat overwhelming at first became nothing short of another beautiful experience. I asked Christine “Ok, What do I do?” to which she replied “just put the bottle in her mouth...Sage will do the rest.” And she did. The crying stopped instantly. Sage had gotten what she was asking for.

So there I sat, a 4 month old baby resting in the crook of my left arm and a fresh bottle of formula in my right hand. Sage did the rest. A newly found peace returned to the table. I just stared at this little life form in my arms in complete awe.

What an incredible miracle a human life is! I never think about it with adults or even small children, but with a baby, it’s different. This thing is new. She’s only 4 months old. A human created from humans by the power of God. 4 months ago she didn’t exist except in the womb. 13 months ago (9 + 4) she didn’t exist at all! Incredible.

How many different things have to line up in order to create a human life? Countless. Without going into details, it seems that everything has to be perfect in order for a baby to be created. That’s a miracle in my book.

So, Sage drank the bottle in what seemed like no time flat. Now it was time to burp her. Christine offered again but I wanted the whole experience. I asked for some tips and promptly got to it. Apparently you’re supposed to rub her back (much more firmly than I thought was safe, I might add) and top it off with the occasional pat. I was doing my best but it didn’t seem to be working.

“How do I know if she’s burped or not?” I asked. “When she burps, you’ll know it.” Cory replied. “She’s not going to spit up on me is she...it’s ok if she does.” I inquired. “No, the formula makes her spit up sometimes but not right away.” Christine added.

More back rubbing. More patting, then finally, a burp. It was small and unassuming. I wasn’t entirely sure that she was done. I asked if I should continue but Christine said Sage was probably finished. Victory!

A sense of satisfaction came over me as I looked at her tiny little baby eyes. I had the sneaking suspicion that to some degree we understood each other. It was beautiful.

Then she sneezed on me.

Sledding

We just got back from our first wilderness trip to Snowy Range, Wyoming. It was an incredible time.

At the beginning of the trip, we hiked a few miles on the road before reaching the trail. Once we got to the trail head, we put on our snowshoes.

My experience with snow has become increasingly limited in the past few years. I’ve been on a couple of snowboarding trips here and there (nothing big since my snowboarding injury two years ago) along with my trip to Snowy Range last year and that’s about it. This year was even better.

It took almost no time at all for me to re-familiarize myself with snowshoes. Once you get used to them (and remember that you can’t try to walk backwards) it’s really like riding a bike.

We hiked in a few miles and set up camp. It was a great first night. The guys were prompted to spend some time in the bible reading a passage that Xan and Cory had given them and then they spent some time in prayer.

Then we circled up, had a great dinner of “pizza bagels” and then got right into discussion. We talked about what it must have been like for Jesus to call the disciples and whether or not these Training Ground participants could identify with being called in that way (to Training Ground).

Day 2 was where the fun REALLY began. We got up in the morning and hiked to a new campsite. We made great time and were able to camp much closer to our final destination than expected. The surroundings were beautiful; we set up our tents in what seemed like a very small valley so that wind would be blocked from either side. We were wrong.

The “valley” turned out to be more of a wind tunnel in which the wind came tearing around the corner of a small field and channeled itself right into our tents. Not the ideal camping spot.

In the midst of setting up the tents, I realized something. These hills on either side of us looked remarkably like sled hills.

I wasted no time. I started looking frantically for something to use as a sled. My first thought was to use a sleeping pad, but no one would let me use theirs, and mine had too many straps on it (it converts to a chair).

Finally, I settled for a waterproof pack cover. I reached the top of the small hill, hopped in the cover, and pushed off. Pretty anti-climactic. The pack cover simply wasn’t rigid enough to navigate the bumps and dips of the snow. I made it down the hill, going at a snail’s pace.

Then to the snowshoes. Surely I could figure out some way to avoid using the metal gripping features of the shoes and use them as skis. It worked briefly, but then I caught the metal edge and took a small spill. Another failure.

Back to the sleeping pad. I simply would NOT give up on this idea. It still seemed like the best option! No one would let me use their pad, so I eventually took matters into my own hands. Dave, the other intern, had gone off to get water. His pad was as good as mine. I noted publicly that if I ruined his pad, I would allow Dave to use mine, and I climbed back to the top of the small hill. I sat down on the pad, rolled it back like a toboggan, and pushed off. EUREKA! My plan had worked! The sleeping pad had effectively become a somewhat flexible toboggan!

After a couple more trial runs, some of the guys began to express more interest. A few guys gave the sit-down method a try, but it was Clarke that finally took the plunge head-first. It was clearly the way to go. Enough testing, we’re ready for the real deal.

Me, Clarke, Robb, and Rem grabbed our pads and began hiking up a much bigger mountain. We set our course and made a goal to get to the first rolling ridge about half-way up.

As we reached our goal and looked down, I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t jump a little bit. It was much steeper than I had anticipated. I think we were all a little concerned, but still up for it.

What would have been a nice enjoyable ride on either a snowboard or skis, looked like a death trap while I clung tightly to my half-inch foam sleeping pad. I honestly had no clue what was going to happen, but I anticipated break-neck speeds.

Once we re-gained our breath (we were somewhere around 10,000 feet elevation), we all got in our ready positions: hands gripping the front of the pad, squatting down, and ready to dive. We were all going head-first. There was no other option.

On the count of three, we all dove. With our weight hitting the snow, we all sank for a moment. I was about to be VERY disappointed, and then the pad resurfaced. We were moving. It was awesome.

I let out a couple of yells as we rode down the mountain. We weren’t going as fast as I would have expected, but still quite fast...maybe 25 mph.

The little kid inside me wasn’t satisfied. I wanted to go again. I wanted to climb higher and go faster. James and Rem were quick to act when I said “I think I want to go again.” The three of us began climbing.

We set our goal about 100 feet higher than the last time, aiming for the top of a curve in some snowmobile tracks.

As we climbed, we could faintly hear some of the guys down below trying to communicate with us. Perhaps they were telling us to go higher, maybe to hurry up, I couldn’t really tell. However, once we got about 50 feet above our previous drop-in, there was no mistaking the bellowing voice of Ryan Phillips yelling “THAT’S FAR ENOUGH!” Our climb was over.

We saddled up on the sleeping mats for another ride down. I set my sights for the rut that I made on the previous run. Off we went. It was an even slower start than last time until I steered my way into the rut from the run before. I was off. Much faster than last time with a top speed of about 35 or 40 mph...on a sleeping pad. What an amazing experience. The child inside was satisfied.

There’s an eagerness about this place that just makes young men want to experience life in a whole new way. It brings us to a place in which we’re willing to have fun like we used to, before the pressures of the world stifled our spirits.

The 12 guys this summer have come to do things differently, to do life in a way previously unbeknownst to them. To step out of the box a little bit. To be willing to make mistakes. To some extent, live like a child again.

It reminds me of Mark 10:13-16 in which Jesus talks about people receiving the kingdom of God like a child. Of people having child-like faith.

Here is the passage in it's entirety:

¹³People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. ¹⁴When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. ¹⁵I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." ¹⁶And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.

Wouldn’t life be better if we all stopped to indulge the child within us every once in a while? Whether it’s sledding, eating an ice cream cone, or swinging on a swing set, these types of simple pleasures remind us that we are ALIVE and that life can be fun!

It also makes me think about John 10:10 when Jesus says "I have come that they may have life and have it to the full."

I want to experience the abundant life that Jesus has to offer.