Womb Time and Word Time

Happy Valentine’s Day  

Up until last year, this holiday held a mostly neutral place in my heart.  But one year ago, Valentine’s Day changed forever.  Now, I absolutely love Valentine’s Day.  It turned out to be the day I got to meet my Micah. 

I still say that a due date is just a good guess, so he wasn’t truly late, but Micah did come two weeks past his expected day.  When they heard my early February due date, some people would comment, “Oh!  Maybe you’ll have a Valentine’s baby!”  Here’s a note for future reference:  never cheerfully tell a pregnant woman that maybe she’ll add two weeks to a very physically uncomfortable time in her life.  I’d try to smile politely and change the subject.

In the end, those well meaning Valentine birthday wishers guessed correctly.  Micah was born on February 14^th a little before sunrise, at home, with the help of Jeff and two midwives.  He was even born en caul, with his amniotic sac intact – a pretty rare and special occurrence.

Two weeks late is a far cry from what mothers of preemies go through.  Rather than watching their due date come and go while their belly expands and stretches, preemie moms get surprised with an early birthday.  My cousin had her little girl at 29 weeks (I need to fact check and edit this post if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that’s the number).  She’s now a tall, athletic eleven year old.  I remember thinking with both pregnancies, “I made it to 29 weeks.”  It was my pregnant brain’s excuse to breathe easier.  Emma turned out great, so my baby would probably have a good chance if he came at that point too. 

Right around that time of pregnancy, I also heard that one day in the womb saves three days in the NICU.  That’s why doctors work so hard to keep the baby from coming too early.  The womb is a powerful place.  It may seem strange that I’m writing so much about these preemie thoughts when I had a very non-preemie baby.  There’s a reason.  Stick with me!

I’ve dealt with some depression this past year.  I’m starting to come out of it one step at a time.  One thing that helps is to spend time with God in the morning.  Unfortunately, feeling depressed is not super conducive to getting up early.  Add to this that my three year old has started losing his affinity for sleep.  He recently told me he hates his bed and wants to throw it away (then he conked out on it for two hours – toddlers say and do funny things).  So, this morning, I woke up at 5:30 and felt God’s nudge to spend time with Him.  I was barely downstairs when Luke shuffled out of bed asking for breakfast.  What the heck?  How is it, on the one day I actually get up to do something positive that he wakes up an hour earlier than usual?!  I was so very mad.  After putting him back in bed with a star light timer set to turn off in one more hour (thanks Aunt Nicole and Uncle Brent!), I settled on the couch with my Bible.  I had to put ear phones in to muffle Luke’s whining upstairs.  I was still mad.

Then God reminded me of that NICU / womb time fact.  Brooke, every minute you spend in my Word has infinitely more power than a minute spent doing anything else.  Don’t think that because this time is interrupted that it holds no strength.  Spend even thirty seconds focused on Me and you will be filled with My power.

Jeff ended up soothing Luke with a book, so I got a whole hour of Bible time.  But, I thought about it differently than when I started.  Those were sixty minutes of “womb time”, of concentrated life given to me.  I was grateful for the gift of that time in a new way.

Every day in the womb is precious. 

So precious.  It’s a very powerful place.

Every moment spent with God and His Word is powerful.  It’s supernaturally different than other minutes you may spend.

So, Happy Valentine’s Day,

Happy Micah Day,

Happy Day of God’s Strength and Love Available to You. 

black and white photo credit

Change Is Coming Like Melting Snow

Every moment the patches of green grew bigger and the patches of snow grew smaller. Every moment more and more of the trees shook off their robes of snow. Soon, wherever you looked, instead of white shapes you saw the dark green of firs or the black prickly branches of bare oaks and beeches and elms. Then the mist turned from white to gold and presently cleared away altogether. Shafts of delicious sunlight struck down onto the forest floor and overhead you could see a blue sky between the tree-tops.  

– The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

As I drove home from the grocery store today, rain spattered the fog-framed windshield.  Remnants of snow on neighborhood lawns melded with puddles forming along the curb.  My mind wandered to the scene in CS Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe where the forever winter is beginning to surrender to spring.  Narnia was locked into winter for years and years.  What would it have been like to see the color green peek through the snow again?  What would it have been like to hear running water?  What would it have felt like to have warm sun rays on your skin?  For some, it was a hope fulfilled.  For others, maybe they’d given up hope long ago and reconciled themselves to a life of winter.

Winter has settled into parts of my life in a Narnia way.  There are struggles that are so much a part of me that I wouldn’t know myself without them.  I wish I could be transformed in a moment; that God would simply remove all my addictions and failings.  I believe He can and sometimes does work that way.  Sometimes though, He brings new growth like melting snow. 

It was significant that I thought of this Narnia scene as I was coming from the grocery store.  I have a problem with using sugar to get through my day.  Entrenched in years of habitual comfort eating, I hold to a spark of hope and keep getting up when I fall.  Today, I realized that spring is coming to this area of my life.  I walked past the chocolate chips in the store probably three times.  I told myself if they were on sale, I’d get them.  I told myself they were for my son Luke.  I told myself I’d only eat a few each day.  And, in the end, I walked out of the store without them.  That’s a patch of green grass.  That’s a little warm sun allowing me to breathe more deeply.  Total freedom isn’t here yet, but it is coming.

Instead of thinking things will never change, I’m going to watch for buds on the trees.  Those buds will eventually turn into flowers.  These places in my life, frozen and bleak, are under the power of God – my Aslan king.  In fact, the Bible has song about this very thing.  

Song of Songs 2:11-13 New International Version (NIV)

11 See! The winter is past;
    the rains are over and gone.
12 Flowers appear on the earth;
    the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
    is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree forms its early fruit;
    the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
    my beautiful one, come with me.”

I'm going to be okay with things changing slowly.  The process is beautiful and delightful in its own way.  Today, I'm resting in God's timing and watching for little signs that my winter spots are surrendering to His spring.

photo credit

photo credit

photo credit