This is my very first Father’s Day as both a son and a father. Other than the blazing heat that feels more like August than June, it has been a very good day.

When we found out we were expecting, a good friend and fellow writer who is also a father urged me to write down thoughts and events as much as possible, as a kind of fatherly discipline. I haven’t been as faithful in the discipline as I’ve wanted. But, in the spirit of the day, here is what I wrote for February 1, 2009.

Saint Francis on a Sunday Morning

This morning you sat in my lap while we sat in church. And I found myself watching you during most of the service. Your back is getting stronger, and with help you are beginning to sit up on your own. You have discovered your own feet, and you like to use your fingers to grab your toes. We are in the season of Epiphany. And it was an epiphany to watch you. To behold you. You are becoming the creation God created you to be.

It reminded me of Saint Francis of Assisi, outside his city, preaching to birds. You are Francis. I am a bird. You are preaching to me, in words that transcend my understanding.

And yet the sermon you preached was far more profound than the sermon I heard from the pulpit.