I've been a little busy lately. There's been tons of stuff from class that I've wanted to write on. But I haven't found the time yet. Before I do though, I've just GOT to talk about this.
No photo could aptly convey what happened the other night. Bridgette had gone to get ready to turn in for the night and was lying on the bed. She asked me to come in for a second while I was doing something (for the life of me, I can't remember what). When I'd finished up I and walked into the bedroom I said something to the effect of "Why, do you want me to feel the baby?" and she said "Yeah".
Now, you've got to understand something. I've been a little jealous for the past month because Bridgette has been able to feel the baby moving around but nothing can be felt on the outside. Our doctor of course said something like 6-8 weeks is when I'd be able to - after she did. So, when Bridgette told me to come check out her belly, I was surprised and excited.
I proceeded to put my hands on her belly, just below the belly-button, just as hers were. For a second, I felt nothing. Then she hicupped - or so I thought.
"Was that you?"
"No" she replied
"Oh my goodness!" I said... but that wasn't all. What followed was amazing. I've felt babies before (My mom had my sister when I was 13, my brother when I was 16) but this was early! I felt a distinct push from a hand or foot or head, like twice on my hand. Not just some general pressure, but something very specific.
Now some guys don't care too much about things like this. I would call these men IDIOTS. From the very beginning, I've been extremely excited about this pregancy. I've been to every doctor's visit, every ultrasound (3 so far). When we first saw the babies heartbeat - that was awesome. When we first HEARD the babie's hearbeat, that was incredible. When we saw the 20 week ultrasound, the baby moving around, being able to count the fingers and toes, seeing bones... whoa.
But when I first FELT the baby... words can't describe.
I think this relates pretty well to Spiritual things too. So often, we get a promise. We're promised salvation. We're promised blessing. We're promised whatever. But nothing comes. We sit around, hearing others talk of their blessings, talk of their triumphs, talk of their freedom... and all we do is wait. Maybe some well-meaning people come up to us and reassure us, they tell us that ours is on the way too. They remind us of God's faithfulness. They remind us of Scripture, of those that have gone before us, their struggles and triumphs and how God did what God promised for them as well.
But somehow, it's not the same. Until...
Until, it happens for us. Until that remarkable day when God DOES rend the heavens and come down. Until that marvelous day in OUR lives when that needed provision, that long-awaited freedom, that overflowing joy washes over us and we cry Hallelujah!
There's a long wait in the meantime so often. But when we are touched, it is so amazing, words fail to convey, pictures cannot do justice, silence is far too loud...