Overwhelmed...

Our second child was born yesterday.


Greta Elizabeth Pate. 


7 lbs. and 18 inches long.


As I sit at my home computer, with my oldest daughter taking a nap in her crib and my wife and newborn daughter resting at the hospital...


I am overwhelmed. 


I'm sure I could come up with some funny observations about Greta's birth experience (and I might do that soon), but today, all I can say is "thank you" and "please help me". 


My God has given me another precious soul to watch over; to love, to train, and to one day let go of. The task set before me as the father of two little girls is truly awesome.


I will be the one who molds their view of men, in general. If they end up trusting men, it will be because they trust me. If they end up not trusting men, it will probably be my fault.


I will be the one who creates their expectations of how a husband should treat his wife, and how a wife should treat her husband. If they end up not settling for anyone who won't treat them like a Queen, I will have played a part in that by the way that I treat their Mother. If they settle for some punk who has no idea how to treat a woman...it will probably be my fault.


I will be the one who, as crazy as it sounds, determines their perception of God. If they perceive God as a balanced mixture of love & discipline, I have done my job. If they perceive Him as only love or only discipline, it will probably be my fault. 


Beyond the diapers, feedings, sleepless nights, birthday parties, dresses, toys, vacations, and kisses on the cheek...lies an eternally monumental responsibility.


Being a father for little girls is something that I have talked to God about at length. It is something that I have watched others do for the last decade and I have seen, through good examples and bad ones, how important it is. It is a job that I do not take lightly. I do not see myself as simply the provider for my family. That's not going to be enough. I don't see myself as simply the male figure-head in my family. That's not going to be enough. 


I see myself as the spiritual leader of my family. 


And that's going to be hard.


If it was easy, everyone would be doing it.


And they aren't.


Will I be the one who makes the decisions that only a Father can make? 


Will I be the one who says "no" when everyone else in my family thinks that the answer should be "yes"?


Will I be the one who takes the easy path, or the one who blazes the way towards heaven for those he loves?


Will I stand in the face of Satan himself and say, "You cannot have my family!", or will I cower in the corner as he snatches them away from me?


I am afraid. 


I am afraid of not being strong enough, good enough, wise enough, home enough, and man enough.


I am afraid of failing.


I am afraid of watching my girls leave my house with the full knowledge that they are not prepared for life, or for eternity...and that it's my fault. 


I am afraid that they I might "run them off" from God if my words and actions don't mix the way that they should.


I am afraid that I won't say and do the right things, or that I won't say and do them often enough. 


I am afraid of a lot of things.


But there is one thing that I am afraid of more than anything...


I am afraid of what I KNOW will happen to them if I don't try; if I don't dedicate the next 18+ years to doing the job that God has specifically designated for Jeremy Pate...and no one else. 


It is this fear that I pray will drive me through the other ones. It is this fear that will help me make the right decision even when it isn't popular. It is this fear that will overwhelm the other fears.


And really, it's not this fear that will see me through...


It's this love.


This powerful love that I feel for my family, especially for my children. The kind of love that doesn't have to be promised; the kind that simply needs to be carried out consistently and with a dogged determination that can never be exhausted.  


I love my children.


Today, that means having a job, providing formula, changing diapers, singing songs, and cleaning up messes.


Tomorrow, it will mean long talks about the Bible...and boys.


The next day, it will mean saying "no"...and sticking to it. 


The day after that, it will mean finding the right answers to lots and lots of questions.


Soon, it will mean letting them go. 


I am overwhelmed. 


As I typed that last sentence, my child began to cry and wake up from her nap. 


I have to stop blogging and go take care of her now.


After all, isn't that what love would do?