Lion of a Man
Last weekend I went to the zoo with my friend Vex and her son Malik. Malik was born premature and spent three months in NICU before finally coming home, and we prayed for them constantly in church those three months. At his dedication, Adam explained the meaning of his name, Malik Leander. Malik means “king” and Leander means “lion of a man,” so this child probably has the most epic name since, say, Gilgamesh. Maybe because our church is small, and we spent so long praying this boy to life, but he really does seem like everyone’s child. Biased as I am, I have to say I think it would be pretty excellent growing up in a church like Continuum.
Our little lion enjoyed several hours of pushing his own stroller, putting on his hat, taking off his hat, and communicating with other tiny humans in their unique and unknowable way. I enjoyed being surrounded by my two favorite subjects: children and animals. I also came to the same conclusion as Vex’s advice at the end of the excursion: “Wait to have kids, Jenn.” As much as I enjoy tiny humans, I am certainly not ready to be completely responsible for the well-being of one. I am too selfish, too insecure, too unsure of my significance to have someone completely dependent on me, but I’d like to think that I am on my way.
needlessly dramatic 