I have a proposal (see how I segued from last post with that? Amazing.) for Mike Rowe of “Dirty Jobs” fame. He needs to spend a day taking photos of young children for Christmas cards. It’d make him pine for the days of cleaning sewers and inseminating pigs.

Yesterday we took 98 photos to get our ONE Christmas card photo. I can’t show you that one until after the family/friends get it, because I’ve taken some justifiable heat in the past for people finding out things from a blog (like my son’s birth) that they thought should be found out other ways.

But I can show you some of the photos we aren’t going to be using. Like this one. Click to slightly enlarge.

Some thought bubbles would be great on this one. Oh for more time to post nonsense on my blog.

I lobbied hard for this one to be the one we used, with some fun “fill in the blank” thought bubbles just above each head. Maybe next year.

Just kidding. I didn’t actually lobby.

I’ll post some more rejects later on. There’s some good stuff in those 97 other photos.

On this day in 1941, we got attacked by Japan.

On this day in 2005, I drove 7 hours with a diamond ring in my pocket to “surprise” the woman of my dreams and propose.

I sang a song I wrote, asked her to marry me, she said yes, and I turned back on the UNC game. It was not nearly as unromantic as it sounds. I had driven 7 hours, and the game was almost over. Didn’t she have people to call and squeal at over the phone? How can I add to that conversation? I held her hand… and watched Tyler Hansbrough’s freshman year unfold.

I’d do it all over again, babe (and I’d probably have to be persuaded not to turn the game back on. Just putting that out there).

Happy engagement day. The Japanese drop bombs. I drop diamonds.

Another in the long line of videos that prove our son is awesome. Behold, LB the Beatboxer. In between the two beatbox sessions he says “Hey daddy… Hey everybody… Hey LB” as the camera pans past each.”

I love that kid.

Ever been kicked in the teeth by a children’s Bible?

Image courtesy of The Jesus Storybook Bible

During stage (2) of the above proceedings, I opened to the story of Jesus preaching in Matthew about the birds and the flowers being provided for. The story brought me to tears as I realized how silly and gospel-starved I am to have forgotten that God is the provider, the author, the sustainer. I am just the steward, and have received the ultimate gift, the ultimate provision (which makes all other “needs” merely bonus by comparison) in Jesus and his perfect life and sacrificial death.

So there I was, blubbering through the story, and LB grabbed my face and looked me in the eye and said “It’s OK, Daddy.”

Yes son, you’re right, it is OK.

On Halloween my boy dressed up as easily the least ferocious lion I’ve ever encountered. Here’s video footage. Be sure to check out the “subtitles” below the video for a running commentary of LB’s running commentary.

Me: Hey LB…
LB: Cheese! (the LED flash on the camera came on).
Me: Me and my lion…
LB: em-tims? (M&Ms)
Me: There’s the candy…
LB: Candy? (repeatedly)
Me: You’ve got the fire…
LB: it’s hot. (that’s my boy)

Yeah, parenthood is pretty dang awesome. If you haven’t checked out our Web Album, there are some great photos over there of Halloween. They are in both the 2010 Album and the Theodore Brooks Meredith Album. Enjoy.

Don’t you hate those parents who think their kid is extraordinary for doing ordinary things?

Just because he’s in the 97th percentile now doesn’t mean he’s Shaq, ma’am.

Here’s me, committing this error. Enjoy LB singing Twinkle, Twinkle. Extraordinarily.

In the midst of the craziness of job-hunting, business-planning, baby-feeding, and all around life-changing, there comes a moment when everybody is smiling, there’s a camera pointed at you, and life is perfect.

Things could possibly be crazier for us these days, but we are not sure how.  I’m just glad I get to ride this roller coaster alongside such an amazing wife, and laughing at some pretty entertaining kids.

Yeah.  Life’s pretty good.

Perhaps the most profoundly true declaration in the world.  Sung by a 2-year old. Sort of.

I haven’t officially talked about one of the new projects I’ve started recently here on the blog, unless you noticed it in the twitter feed atop the page.  That project is a new site that features a photo of my infant son every day.  So far I’ve only missed one day, and I woke up at midnight and considered waking him up to get a photo.

It’s a photo taken with my cell phone, and directly uploaded to the site.  Nothing fancy.  I put some effort into the captions, though.  Should be worth the 20 seconds per day it’ll take you to look at them.

The site is theophoto.tumblr.com and the twitter account that you’ll want to follow to make sure you don’t miss a photo is @_theo_b_

Enjoy!

I have a toddler.  That means I am inundated with products aimed at kids, and I’ve noticed a troubling trend.  Everybody wants my kid to feel good about himself, sometimes in spite of the facts.

Self-esteem is only good if it’s true.  No matter how good he feels about himself, it only really matters how good he actually is.  And the Bible is troubling on that count: “No one is good.  Not even one.”  So for me to tell my child that he should feel good about himself without giving him any reason to believe it, I am encouraging psychosis.

He’s not a snowflake, he’s not special (because if everybody is special, then nobody is special.  That’s what the word means.), and he can’t be whatever he wants to be when he grows up.  No matter how hard he tries, given his mother’s and my foot-speed, he’s never going to make it as a professional running back in the NFL.  And he’s got about a 10,000,000 (that’s ten million) to 1 chance of becoming President of the United States.  To tell him he can be “whatever he sets his mind to” is setting him up for a good counselor at about age 25.

Here’s the difference between Christianity and every other worldview (and especially the therapeutic hoo-ha that passes for “Christian kids programming” all too often.)  If your kid’s programming gives him the impression that God is impressed when he is a good little boy, that’s paganism.  Christianity alone has the capacity to be honest about the depth and horror of sin, because Christianity alone actually has a solution for sin.

Christianity says that God lavishes gifts on his children freely, not because they are “special.”

Any attempt to make my child feel good about himself apart from Christ is actually a barrier to the gospel taking root in his heart.

What if I could share with my child that, in spite of his terrible record of obedience, there is one who was perfectly obedient and offered His record in exchange for my child’s?  What if I could share how he should never look to himself to find esteem, but instead look to Christ?

Christ is special.  Christ is a snowflake.  Christ could have been whatever he wanted when he grew up.  And he laid it all aside,  and

“did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Philippians 2: 6b-8.

If our children take hold of that fact, by faith, we can then afford to be honest with them about all kinds of stuff, from what they want to be when they grow up to how they aren’t really all that special, but that they are loved by the God of the universe.

Pagan performance-based encouragement or vague sentimentality about being “special” will lead to distorted anthropology, arrogance, and baseless “self-esteem.”  Biblical encouragement, on the other hand, will lead to healthy self-awareness (I am worse off than I thought) and joy (but God has provided a new record in Christ!).