Our letter from David James Duncan

A little over a week ago I wrote a letter to David James Duncan, the author of our favorite book The Brothers K. Beth and I decided in 2006 that if we had a son, we would name him Kade after the main character in The Brothers K. I wrote DJD a letter to notify him of this. My hope was that we would eventually hear back from him, even if it were years down the road. I received this letter earlier this week....

We will cherish this letter for our entire lives. We hope someday to meet DJD in person, and hopefully he will also be able to meet little Kade. 

On my first fly fishing excursion in Oregon, I arrived at Eagle Creek expecting nothing but to perfect my cast. I stumbled into the river, balancing myself on slick rocks. When I found my spot, my anxious hands shook as I attempted to tie the fly to the end of the line. After many minutes I was ready to cast. I was running through all of the steps in my head, "Okay, snap to a stop, let the loop develop, make sure the line is loaded before moving forward..." Surprisingly my first cast wasn't too bad. The fly landed upstream of me, with a little less grace then I wanted it to, but it was in the water, not a overhanging tree. I watched as it bobbed its way down, my hands busy pulling in the slack. As the fly crossed in front of me a flash of white lunged out of the water. I tugged back setting the hook. I felt no weight on the other end, but I was still shaking with excitement. Not only did I get the fly in the water, but it was presented well enough to fool a fish into taking a stab at it!

What followed was an afternoon of catching small (maybe 4 inch) baby salmon. I perfected my cast, and was seeing success in targeting the location of the cast.

Today, as I sat in a chair across from my spiritual director, I made a connection between that day, and everything that is currently going on in my life. As Beth and I prepare for Kade, I have felt myself going through the process of grounding. My anxiety and fears could really get the best of me. Instead I have felt as if I have set the stage for understanding, a little better, what it is we need to do to make our lives work as new parents. I feel at ease about making decisions out of a state of clearness.

This process of getting to a place of clearness was one that was initiated by the mystical experience of seeing Kade for the first time via the ultrasound. In the moment when I could see his heart beating, I instantly felt connected to a great cycle. I felt my place within a course of humanity that has seen life come full circle. This is a mystical experience, it changes you. An instant moment of connection.

When the fly was floating down the river I had no expectation that in a matter of moments an unforeseen connection was about to be made. Many have described the mind during flyfishing. It is completely present to the moment. You are in a state of clearness. It is in that state of clearness that you are prepared for a connection to be made. It is your job to make the connection successful, to act when you see the opportunity to connect.

I am hoping that this period of clearness will allow me to make the connections of wisdom and guidance from God that are necessary for discerning what is best for us come April and the months/years after. I need to stay in the river. I need to watch closely.

Introducing Kade

So, here he is, Mr. Kade River Pratt-Russum. If he is looking a little angry, it's probably because he has a really long name. This, is how we realized that Kade is indeed a boy:

You are looking at Kade's bottom (from below) and well you can take a guess at what part is being pictured here. As the ultrasound technician approached this area, Beth and I knew instantly what we were looking at. It was one of those moments when you felt everything changing. The little one was named, and I uttered the words "son" for the first time. 

I feel layers of reality being peeled back in bi-weekly doses. Yesterday was huge, there he was, laying face down, his tiny spine, a beating heart, his left and right hemispheres. Life. I feel unbelievably connected, humbled, and awed. 

We thought we were 19 weeks pregnant, but it turns out we are 16. Kade will likely be an April baby and we cannot wait. 

Lessons

post by Mark

Since 2006 I've been aware of my struggle with anxiety. It was around this time five years ago that I sat in the living room of Nancy and John Linton in Lincoln, OR. Surrounded by heavy stillness, and the magic of living in a cabin for months, I was more fully aware of myself then I had ever been. Connections were being made between my past, and my current understanding of God and my spirituality. Nancy wondered aloud if my anxiety (specifically my fear of death) was connected with my sense of worth to my family. Would they be okay with out me?

In the years that have followed I've been acutely aware of the anxious voice that visits me daily. Only recently have I begun to disassociate that voice from God's. I would have liked to believe, years ago, that God's voice was one of comfort, but it didn't seem likely then. I trusted instead that God's voice was the loudest, telling me to be worried about everything, and to feel judgement when I let others down.

I've discovered that God's voice is the faintest, telling me instead that everything will be okay.

I'm inclined to listen to those who have experienced the voice of God as gentle.

And now, swirling in the winds of anxiety that comes with being a parent for the first time, it is a spiritual discipline to listen closely. Everyday feels like the work of deconstruction.

moved in

Seven tea light candles burn on the window sill of our new apartment. Their reflection adding to the sparkling lights of downtown Portland, visible as well, through the windows. It smells of cardboard. We are here, our new apartment, backs, arms and legs aching.

When I tell people that we had 16 people from our Church come and help us on Saturday, they typically respond with surprise. Not everyone has a community like the one we have.

For now, we are taking deeper breaths, and longer rests between boxes.