Welcome to the first day of your life, Crosby! Consider this the very first ink blot in your lifelong digital footprint. After all, you’ve been born into a world of iPhones, Facebook, Instagram, Alexa, Snapchat, and blogs (I have a feeling you’ll be making numerous appearances in your grandpa’s blog for a long time to come). There’s no escaping it. And there’s no escaping the love that’s already being showered upon you by your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends and relatives.
Crosby Benjamin Swenson, you entered the world early in the morning on January 8, 2017. It was the coldest day we’ve had in Florida for quite some time (a low of 35 degrees!). But you’ll discover that “winter” in Florida is very, very short. In just a day or two it’ll be back into the 70’s and 80’s again. Then you’ll be able to wear those onesies all those generous people gave you. In fact, you’ll learn all kinds of things: like the grass is green, MacIntosh is better than PC, and the Green Bay Packers are your favorite football team.
As you were entering the world, four of your grandparents (and one of your aunts) were just down the hall. They were in the hospital waiting room before dawn even broke. That’s how much they were looking forward to meeting you. As the old saying goes, “God may not come when you want Him, but He’s right on time.” Always. And God saw to it that you, little Crosby, were right on time.
You were 7 pounds, 12 ounces, 20 1/2 inches. That’s pretty good evidence that you were right on time. When they finally met you your grandparents shed some tears, broke into smiles, and couldn’t stop cuddling you. Your great-grandmother said that your name is one that “might take some living up to.” I think it sounds like the name of a baseball player or a quarterback. Maybe even an actor.
When your uncle who lives in Nashville saw all your pictures he gushed. After the photos he saw on Facebook he posted over and over again: “My little buddy.” I’m certain you always will be (buddies).
When you were born you still had some liquid in your lungs. There were just a few tense moments. But the nurses took good care of you and you were breathing regularly in no time. As the sun set that same evening you curled up in a little ball right there on your mother’s chest, sleeping like a baby (as it were). You may never be quite that content again in your entire life.
While you snoozed the Packers beat the New York Giants 38-13. Mason Crosby even kicked a field goal. Your first victory as a lifelong fan.
Just before your grandparents left you for the night, a prayer was said. The prayer gave thanks that you were healthy. It gave thanks for your loving family. It asked for health and protection for you and your mom and dad. And it looked forward to the day in just two weeks when Jesus will use water and His own Word to wash away your sin and sinfulness, transfer you from death to life, and plant in you the gift of growing faith.
There is nothing better or more important than that. In fact, you were born on the day we commemorate the Baptism of Jesus Himself: The Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord. He took on your sin so that you never have to fear its punishment: not today; not ever.
Don’t ever forget that.
I, for one, will do my best to make sure that you don’t. You have my pledge on that, dear grandson, my dear little Crosby.
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