Wisdom from a skunk

We received a birth announcement in church today from some friends who recently had their third child. The card, which contained a picture of their child on the inside, had a cartoon skunk on the outside and the words "stinkin' cute." This is a great description of the arrival of a newborn. Yes they stink, and yes they're cute. More than that though, it was for me a collision of the greatest and worst things that had ever happened to me. Prior to parenthood, I expected it to be one or the other. Some people tell you that it is the most wonderful thing that will ever happen to you. Other focus on the inconvenience, the late nights, the messy changes, and the complete eradication of any semblance of a social life. When my children arrived, I found myself identifying more with the latter. It seemed as though life had ended. I felt that because I didn't initially feel that magical bliss of which many boast that I must be a terrible parent. A funny thing happened to me though. I came to realize that I can't imagine my life without my children. Moreover, I am more happy about my life now than I ever ever been before. This does not mean that at times I don't still feel that life is over. What it means is that I have come a bit closer to understanding the elusive concept of paradox. Modernity has left us with a thirst for the polarized. We love the over-simplified. There may be an eternal separation from good and bad. I don't think though that any one person is a complete personification of either. Nor do I think that we can always accurately perceive the difference. This ought to affect our responses to the people and the experiences we encounter. I wish that I had an easier time doing this. It is so hard to shake free of the need to put people and experiences into easy categories. Hopefully, the more I realize the limitations of this, it will become easier to defy it.