Eighteen years ago at this time I was a nervous young guy waiting through the hours of labor at my young wife's side. Our lives were about to change forever.

Andrew took a long time to arrive. And he had to "blaze the trail" so to speak, which is the lot of the first-born. If he had been informed at the time that he was about to be put in the care of two completely inexperienced parents, what would he have thought?

He was too busy, though, just trying to get out into the world. Dr. Setzler eventually had to "spoon" him out with forceps. I'll never forget it - all of a sudden there he was. I had a son.

I had a son. It began to sink in. I was a dad. I had a son!

After the initial after-action work, the doctor decided it was time to take Andrew to the maternity ward nursery. Andrew was the only kid on the ward that night, and I was allowed to carry him out the door of the LDR, through the (smokey) nurse's break room and into the nursery. I held Andrew in my arms and began the short journey. And I'll never forget it - I looked down at him, and he looked up at me. Our eyes met, as I wondered at the miracle, and he sized me up.

I've never felt prouder. I felt like lifting him up and presenting him to the heavens, like Kunta Kinte! I wanted to shout. I was a dad. I had a son!

Today Andrew turns eighteen. He's a senior in high school, he's got a beard, he's taller than I am, his voice is deeper, and I believe his mind is deeper too. And I'm left marvelling at what eighteen years can do.

If you know Andrew, you know he has these traits: intelligence, introspection, whackiness, humor, and a personality like deep waters. He's a reader and a thinker, and he's becoming an excellent writer. He has an encyclopedic knowledge and appreciation of literature, music and history. And he's got great musical talent at guitar and vocals. Andrew has been blessed to be a worship leader for the past few years at our church, and he's gone beyond anything I would have imagined in that area. And, though sometimes reluctantly, Andrew constantly finds himself in positions of leadership. It's just the way he's built.

Andrew is also blessed to have good friends who really love him. As Clarence Oddbody once said, "no man is a failure who has friends", and by that measure, Andrew is a great success. Last Saturday we had twenty or so of them over to the house for a birthday party, and our house filled with laughter, shouting, music, and conversation. I went to bed happy that night.

So now we find ourselves in the home stretch of Andrew's childhood, nearing the day when our relationship to our first-born will move permanently away from parent-to-child and will become adult-to-adult. Andrew is becoming a man.

And, just like me, he still has miles to go. But I am content, and joyful, and hopeful on this day. God has always had his hand on Andrew, in ways that have been marvelous, and frightening, and awesome, and real. Being Andrew's dad is a "humbling honor", and I'm constantly driven to my knees in both deep supplication and deep praise for him, for his life, and for the privilege it is to be his dad.

Happy birthday Andrew! I love you.



Our four: Bethany, Andrew, Molly, with Blake up front