30 Favourite Things #2

  Okay… so yesterday I told you that I’d be posting “thirty favourite things” from the last year… things that were big or important to me that I never really wrote about — some of the “life changing” or “significantly impacting things” from my 50th year. And I’ve been thinking that I have so many significant things to share — but what are worth telling — or, more importantly (considering this is a public venue), what are worth reading?  So I’m attempting to tell the stuff that’s worth reading.

June was an extremely busy month and, as such, some of the ‘big things’ that happened were very obscured by some smaller busy-ness – but weren’t small things at all.

Probably one of the most cherished events or most significant events I’ve ever experienced have been the births of each of our children and witnessing the births of our grandchildren.   The incredible gift of life — the experiencing God in the indescribable instance of birth is truly one of the greatest treasures I have or will ever have.  So, then, on the eleventh of June I had the great honour and privilege of caring for my friend who was labouring with her sixth child.  When my husband and I arrived at their home, our friend was in the throes of labour and the waves of pains were wracking her body as the time drew nearer for the birth.  Her husband and mother were there comforting and caring for her.  It became obvious that the midwife would not arrive in time for the birth and more obvious that her husband and I would be the ones to care for her during the actual birthing of the baby.  Continually working with her to give her assurance and comfort, I trusted God to guide our thoughts and decisions. Time, space and propriety does not allow for the recounting of all the (very significant to me) details of this wonderful night.

Surely the presence of the Lord was in that place — great peace was intermingled with the thrilling anticipation of the impending birth.  She was so beautiful and serene there in the warm water and as the baby was born – “in the caul” – into the waiting hands of his father, it was so obvious the blessing of the Lord was on him – on the mother – on the baby – and surely giving me great peace and comfort.  The father is a fireman — but that’s not why I had no fear.  He has helped with births as I have in the past, but that’s not why I had no fear.  I had no fear because the presence of the Lord was so evident.

As the father moved to gather necessary things, I was so honoured to place the baby in the hands of the mother and to hold him there with her so that I could more carefully assess the baby’s colour, breathing and cord.   Everything looked very good as it was a very, very smooth birth (note, I never said very, very easy or pain-free).   But you know… if there was pain, if there was too much or if it was hard, my friend showed none of that.  She was as if to be carried through on the wings of angels — that’s the only way I can describe her beauty and countenance.  I will never, ever forget that most wonderful night.

The midwife did arrive some time later, was pleased with our ‘work’ and completed the care and assessment of the baby and mother.  God had surely blessed that whole labour and delivery and it was very evident to me the prayers of the saints were with us.

I prepared a meal and tea to drink and brought it up for our serenely resting friend… in her arms was the precious newborn Timothy who had been so named for our missionary son.  This was surely one of the greatest honours we’ve ever received.  We prayed and do pray the Lord will bless, guide and use this little 2nd :o) Timothy in great and mighty ways all the day of his life.

When I awoke after a few hours sleep in the morning… I cried with awe, joy and thankfulness at the goodness and mercy of the Lord.  He alone does wondrously and all things well.