There’s a book called “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” If you have kids, you’ve owned it. If you don’t have kids, you’ve heard of it. It’s got all the tweaks and turns of pregnancy and all the tips to travel them. It’s a go-to book for a man and woman when she’s creating a baby body and they’re creating “mom and dad.” It’s the beginning. Lately I’ve been wondering about “what to expect when you’re done.” What do you do when your kids are flying the way you so earnestly taught them to do? What do you do when it’s not the beginning anymore? They’re out living and you’re in missing them. There’s a mix of pride, joy, heartache, and hope swirling your heart and head (mostly your heart!) and it’s messy and perfect all at the same time. Did I get it right Lord? Will they be ok? Thank you for giving them to me Jesus, I had a blast! Yet, I wonder what the shepherd does after “in the beginning.” In asking Him this morning, I’ve come to the answer that He keeps saying “In The Beginning” in our lives every day in every thing. And I’m starting to realize that’s what mom’s and dad’s can do too. It’s something I can make sense of. Every stage from zero to a hundred can be “in the beginning.” But not without the shepherd to help me with trust instead of “what to expect when I’m expecting change.”
I gave birth to my daughter in 4 hours. I remember rushing from the car to a nurse with a wheelchair. While she was driving it to the maternity ward, I was dodging contractions left and right and rushing with adrenaline to meet my child! I had seen countless pictures of babies being put on their mama’s chests after birth and the dreamy sweaty sobbing lady in the picture was about to be me. Or so I thought. We got to the maternity room, got me on the bed, and the doctor called. Then came the “not-so-as-planned-birthing plan.” Water broke, dilated from 3 to 10 in forty five minutes, epidural put in (and broke!), doctor arrived, pushing started, baby out. Baby taken. I got a three second look at my daughter before they whisked her to the side and immediately started strapping an oxygen mask on her and patting her body to bring circulation. She’d been born so fast she was in shock and they couldn’t let me hold her until they felt she was ok. I couldn’t hold her in the beginning.
After what seemed like a very long time with both her and I being medically tended to separately and my husband going back and forth between us, they brought her to my arms, all burrito’d up with pink skin and breathing without a mask. Mommy and daddy and baby complete. Not the perfect picture I’d expected, but so beautiful in the moment. A new beginning.
Fast forward to ten weeks old. My daughter wasn’t breathing right still. Through a series of doctor visits and events, we found ourselves at UC Davis in the pediatric ENT department with news the department head physician had cancelled all other patients and would be operating on our infant in less than an hour. I couldn’t nurse her. I couldn’t remove the cyst in her throat without her having to go through surgery. I couldn’t be in the room to hold her hand or keep my eyes on her. All we could do was ask the shepherd to please go in the room with her and take care of her. Another new beginning on so many levels. The beginning of learning to mother with a shepherd. The beginning of learning to father with letting someone else lead. The beginning of learning bravery and grit for not just having a baby, but raising a life. The beginning of shepherding my daughter side by side no matter what we faced together so that one day she could breathe on her own and fly. When she came out of the OR, they let us in to her recovery room and brought us to her little tiny bedside. “Would you like to hold this mask over her nose and let her breathe the oxygen?” they asked me. “I’d love nothing more.” And “in the beginning” started again.
My daughter is a senior in high school now and the “in the beginning” moments remain to be my favorite part of life. I’m learning and growing with the definition of them. I’ve prayed deeply this morning and realized I never have to know or do “what to expect when you’re done.” In all our stages together, I have the beautiful God-provided opportunity to share a lifetime with her. The coats, vegetables, and car seats may leave and bring a messy mixture of feelings, but friendship and futures are ours to begin as many times as possible.
The Lord answered another prayer this morning for me. He doesn’t just answer one prayer at a time with one answer at a time. He’s God with boundless fireworks of exploding love over the field. He taught me about being His baby; that He thinks of me the way I think of my daughter. He’s there for my lifetime, for every way a new beginning forms for He and I together. As we move from being young or old in our relationship with the shepherd, there’s always an “in the beginning” radiance from Him to forgive and find a future and friendship anew. He’s never done. He has a messy mixture of feelings too and the stages can be full of His tears and joy all fused together. He feels. He loves. And that’s what love does. It’s never done. It’s there for every stage and goes the distance in every child’s life. From the time “in the beginning” started to the time “in the beginning” will start again; when Heaven’s gates pour floods of majestic angels out and every lamb is swept up to be side by side with the emotional Shepherd. He longs to see us. I long to see Him. What can you expect? Forever beginnings. Forever life. Forever love. Trust Jesus and start again.
“And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is.” Ephesians 3:18
“No power in the sky above or in the earth below–indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:39
Lamb Lines 