BAM! Here’s a Baby! (Sadie’s Birthday)
(originally written on July 15th, 2008)
It is 9:00 p.m. at this moment and I’m sitting in a reclined chair next to the hospital bed. Just before picking up my computer to type this reflection, my precious new daughter was nestled snuggly in my arms, fast asleep. Her every little breath, squeak, and sigh cause her Mommy and I to smile. That is all it takes. A squeak.
She is wearing a miniature toboggan, a little newborn t-shirt, a diaper, and a tiny censor attached to her leg with a cotton-wrap that will sound an alarm if anyone tries to take her away from the hospital—cool!
Diaper-wise, yeah I am pretty experienced already having changed the first two—count ’em, two—poopy diapers with a fearless efficiency that boggles the human mind! I am pretty sure they’re going to offer me a nursing job before I leave.
At present, Sadie is in bed with her Mommy, still sound asleep. After a day of thousands of well-meaning visitors, it is finally just the three of us. It is about the closest thing to bliss I have ever experienced.
I am taken aback by so many varied things that occurred today, but I think the most striking characteristic of the day is that Laura and I came to the hospital as just the two of us; but we will leave as the three of us. I know, I know, it sounds obvious. But it is really remarkable. One minute, we were sitting in the operating room talking to the nurses and doctors. Five minutes later—BAM! Here’s a baby!
We knew Sadie was in there somewhere. We even had some idea of what she looked like through the stunning technology of the 4-D ultrasound. The rooms back home are painted. The car seat is installed. The extra meals we have prepared for the coming weeks are frozen. The furniture is assembled. The baby’s closet is full. Daddy’s wallet is empty. Yes, we knew she was coming.
But preparatory details still cannot adequately prepare one for the moment that it happens—and it happens fast! Well, it happens fast for us, at least. In actuality, it has been happening for nine months, we just could not see it.
Since we each view life through our own personal set of lenses, we often think the reality thereof is colored for everyone else exactly the same way we see it. Relationships abruptly end everyday and one party asks, “But why? Everything was fine yesterday!” No, everything was not fine yesterday; you were just unaware of what had been wrong for some time. Therefore, the moment we encounter an experience, we are inclined to consider it new. But the reality is, it is only our exposure to its pre-existent reality that is actually new.
So Sadie may be new to me, but only because this is the first time I have met her. There is someone else who has already known all about her. Psalm 139 reveals the ultimate ultrasound of the Creator’s handiwork. You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. Psalm 139: 13-16 (NLT)
Not only has he been watching Sadie, he has been knitting her together as a priceless woven tapestry. Each cell. Each bone. Every vessel and synapse. He has been painstakingly authoring the schematics of her existence for some time now. So yes, she is new to us, but she is quite familiar to him.
It makes one wonder what other miracles might be growing deep within the recesses of our spirits just waiting for the “BAM!” moment to occur. Things of priceless value rarely just appear. No, they usually germinate within us—growing, maturing, and being prepared for that moment when the light of the outside world will expose their hidden beauty and reveal the masterful handiwork of a very creative Creator.
Maybe tomorrow, you will just suddenly overcome that temptation—BAM!
Maybe in a few days, that person you have been praying for will suddenly have a turnaround—BAM!
Rest assured, our “BAMS!” are merely the moments when God lets us in on the masterpiece plan he has been working on all along. As we cradle close to our hearts the miracles of his mercy, may we remember that his hands have long been weaving together our dreams in hidden, unseen places. From the looks of this miracle lying in my arms, he does his best work there.
Tonight I hold a little bundled dream in my hands and as the Psalmist says, “How well I know it.”
