I want to share about family, reflecting as a leader on this most honored role we all have: to be part of a family.
Our twins, Emily (who we call Emmy) and Luke, were a gift from the Lord to Joanne and I. Now, as they turn three, their words, minced with the beauty and innocence of a toddler, melt my heart often. The experience of twins is double the trouble and double the delight. They often imitate each other, perhaps saying no when they should not, or better, running toward me when I come home from work. A few weeks ago, they started saying a phrase that I will carry in my heart forever.
Joanne and I do our best to speak to them in Arabic, our mother tongue, so they might at least be familiar with the language, and therefore, as most immigrants unsuccessfully do, try to retain a bit of the culture of their ancestors. And so, my kids call me Babi. In Lebanon kids call their dads, Baba, and Babi is a version of that.
Emmy came to me recently and said, “Babi, carro me.” I looked at her, puzzled, unsure what she was saying. It sounded like the word carry but ended with an “O.” She said it again, this time, lifting her arms. With pleasure, I reached out and lifted her and gave a big kiss and a tight hug. Then came Luke, always following what Emmy does. He also said, “Babi, carro me.”
Now the thing with twins is that you want to be careful to give them equal attention. Not wanting to let Emmy down after only a few seconds in my arms, I reached out with one arm and picked up Luke. Now, not having the strongest biceps, I squeezed them tightly while carrying them then gave them both more kisses, told them I loved them, and put them both back down.
A toddler asking their dad to carry them is all that eventful. I am not sure why, but recently it has hit me deeply, in a poignant way. As Emmy and Luke keep telling me “carro me,” I am so happy to oblige. Even with their mangled, multi-language communication, they are clear on what they want. They feel safe and loved by their dad, and for whatever reason, they don’t want to or cannot stand anymore.
This common parenting experience is especially beautiful to me because it is spiritually convicting. Too often, I don’t reach out to my Father and ask Him to carry me. Too often, I carry all the burdens myself. The road is foggy, the battles are many, and I simply neglect to walk up to my Dad with arms outstretched and ask him to carry me.
In 2025 as Christ-followers and leaders of teams and organizations, may we come to the Lord daily and simply ask Him: “Lord, carry me.” May we lift our arms as we set aside our heavy loads.
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