Hope has come in countless shapes and forms since the beginning of time. Presidents, revolutionaries, religious
But recently for me hope has looked a little different. Mostly because about eight months ago, hope came in the shape of a 21 inch, 7lb 15oz angel named Maiya Grace Baldoni.
I will never forget that moment. After 35 hours of powerful, connected, and meditative labor, my incredible wife brought a new definition of the word hope to the world. To hold in my hands a fresh life, a beating heart, a brain exploding with neurons and eyes processing photons, half made of me, and half made of my wife, was an experience I will never have the words to process. I mean...how could I not believe in something greater than myself? How is it possible that this tiny thing, born with all the potentialities in existence could not have been sent by the universe to bring joy to the world? It couldn’t have been an accident, or just some bizarre un-explained scientific phenomena that just happened to create an accidently perfect human being. It couldn’t have been...because it wasn’t.
As all parents know, the births of our children change us, even if just for a moment. If you ask ten people about the moment they held their child, seven of them will say it was the closest they have ever felt to God even if they don’t believe in him, her, or it. There’s a reason for that, because it’s true.
Eight months ago at 11:29am, I saw my daughter take her very first breath. I saw her breathe in all the good this world has to offer and begin her journey on the breast of her mother. It was at that exact moment, when I held her tiny, fragile frame in my hands I was given the gift of remembering. I remembered why I was born, where I came from, and what my purpose was, and if that was Maiya’s first gift to her father, then I can only imagine the greatness she will accomplish in her life...and that gives me hope.
So what does Hope look like to me? Simple. It looks exactly like my daughter.