My poor baby. My big, red, four-wheeled baby. I just watched it get hauled up onto the bed of a tow truck, and what an amazing sight. The strength that the tow cable, and the motor, need to have, and the near delicacy the driver needs as he lowers the bed so that gravity doesn’t begin to work too hard against things…it was something to see. The driver asked me if I was coming along to the mechanic since I was still standing there gawking when he was done. But I just had to watch a mighty machine at work.
My last visit to the obstetrician I measured 24 inches. I was close to making that the title of this post, as just those two little words were enough to rob me of my joy and peace for a few hours…okay, days. I had thought I was further along, maybe even 26 or 27 weeks. Was baby shrinking? What was wrong? What should I do? Would I remind the doc that baby was older than that? Would I have to go back in for another check up sooner?
Then the most wonderful thoughts filled my mind. Thoughts of when Sam was born with that scary thing on his back. We had no knowledge beforehand, but if we had, I would have worried myself into a frenzy. But, all we had was ‘now’ and we made decisions from then on that were for Sam’s best quality of life. God let us in on that at just the right time, I think.
Another thought came to me- when the twins got sick. I’d just gone for a routine ultrasound, a higher level one done at OSU (hey, why not have a closer look because we can), and the doctor was telling us I’d have to have surgery that afternoon!!! We slowed the doctor down a bit, opting instead for the next morning, but we could see that this was needed to provide the best chance at life for our precious girls. God allowed us into this moment, and we were grateful there were ways we could help them.
Back to this baby. These memories reminded me of something powerful- when, and only when, the Lord sees fit for us to be involved in the care and decision making for each child, He has been faithful to let us know what is going on. The time that we spend not knowing, when He knits each in secret, is not time for me to worry and stew about anything. This was confirmed during my next OB visit, when I found out I am only 28 weeks along now, putting me at- you guessed it- 24 weeks then. Ha! God must laugh at His little ninny down here.
On Valentine’s Day I googled when Lent was. Um, it started on Valentine’s Day. We joked as a family about things we needed to give up, such as Studio C skits and movie quoting every. Single. Time. I had it in my head to confront a certain issue with a certain person, and was ready to have it out with them, that very week. But it was if a voice in my head said, why don’t you give up the control you are trying to exert over this issue? Why don’t you give that up for Lent? Wow. I’m not sure God really cares if we observe Lent or not, but the idea seemed just strange enough to be from Him, and I released any plans of pursuing my previous conversation. Here again was the Lord letting me in, not for me to get involved, but for me to see His mighty hand at work.
The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our sons forever, that we may observe all the words of this law. Deuteronomy 29:29
So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34