Today we present, “How to have a baby fast.” Are you ready?
Call your dad at 3:45 in the afternoon and leave a voice message, “We’re heading to the hospital. Likely a false alarm. It’s 3 weeks early, so I wouldn’t worry at all. We’ll call if anything happens. Don’t worry. Talk to you later. Bye.” It was my son Jeff on the line.
What? Me worry? Of course not. It’s just that my third grandchild is about to be born.
Eighteen months ago this same son and his wife Raelyn were out hunting moose when her water broke. Not the moose’s water, but Raelyn’s. It seemed like we waited days for that first grandbaby to arrive. That’s why they call it a waiting room I guess. We ate pizza. We watched movies. All 84 seasons of Downton Abbey. So when Jeff called I wasn’t worried. We live an hour from the hospital where they were headed. We had plenty of time.
But just to make sure, I called my son at 4:00 PM. “How about those Toronto Blue Jays?” I asked. Jeff laughed. “No. Seriously. How’s it going?”
“Well, the nurse thinks it won’t happen until midnight, dad. We were 36 hours with Sophia, you know.” I remembered.
“Take care,” I said. “I mean, cast all your care on God. We’ll pray.” And we did. We prayed the prayer we’d been praying for eight months. That this baby would be okay. That God would use this child to bring some light into the world.
At 4:47 a text rattled its way into my phone: “Going into delivery. Better come.” Two minutes later: “Come now. Hurry.” Then, nineteen minutes later, another text: “Baby is here. Bring pizza!”
On the way to the hospital my wife recounted the births of our three children. When our first child was on the way, Ramona was determined there be no medication, it would be a natural birth. But when the labor started, I insisted they medicate me. Seriously, four hours into labor, Ramona said, “Give me drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.” So they did. She woke up when the boy was in third grade.
They say good things take time. But sometimes they’re wrong. Little Claira Callaway came fast. She just couldn’t wait any longer to see her grandpa. Who can blame her? This is our third grandchild. All of them girls. I’m setting up a barbwire fence to keep the boys out. And I’ve been scoping out pink golf clubs. You can teach a child to swing a club at six months, you know. And you can buy these clubs in bulk and get a bit of a deal.
Is there anything quite like the birth of a child to remind us that we live in a crazy world? A culture that insists on ignoring the old boundary markers? “And everyone did what was right in his own eyes,” pretty much sums it up. But as I held a sleeping Claira and her wide-eyed big sister in my arms that night, I sang a little song:
“This is no time for fear. This is a time for faith and determination. Creator God is in control. We believe that His children will not be forsaken. Culture can make its plan, but the line never changes. No matter how the deception may fly. There is one thing that has always been true. It will be true forever. God is in control.”
Welcome Claira Beatrice Callaway, 5 lbs, 13 ounces. It’s a crazy planet you’ve landed on, but Jesus is here. I am too. You’re gonna like me a lot.
Phil Callaway is a speaker, best-selling author, and host of Laugh Again Radio. Check it out at laughagain.org
