Reflections on the Birth of
a Grandson
Anybody who thought that I wasn't going to write about
the birth of our first grandson on May 10 isn't living in the real world.
Admittedly, I was not as prepared as I thought for Samuel James Ammons’ birth.
I did not think that I would wait anxiously in the maternity unit of Northside Hospital
for what seemed an eternity (It was only a few hours). But I was not alone. Sam’s
other grandparents, Ricky and Jane, joined Karen and me. We passed the time
telling birthing and baby stories. We were all a little wired.
Karen and I recalled that there was no waiting through
a long period of labor for Daniel’s birth almost thirty years ago. He came a
month early. Even so, I thought that I was prepared for the birth of our first child.
We had his room ready for occupancy, diapers stockpiled, pediatricians
interviewed. Our subscription to the “Scholastic Books for Young Children” was
paid up. We were almost finished with our Lamaze childbirth class. I remember holding
Daniel’s five pound five ounce frame just minutes after his premature delivery
and thinking, "This has got to be a God thing. It's just too powerful,
mysterious, and terrifying not to be."
It was an epiphany, an experience of the divine and we are never
prepared for such a display. The tiled floor of Baptist Hospital in Columbia
became holy ground for me.
Two hours after Sam's arrival, I held him in my arms
and thought, "This has got to be a God thing. It's just too powerful,
mysterious, and terrifying not to be." I recalled the words of the 139th Psalm where
the writer says of God, "For it was you who formed my inward parts; you
knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you for I am fearfully and
wonderfully made." I watched Sam's tongue darting in and out looking
for his mother's breast to nourish and comfort him in this strange and scary
new world. And I remembered Jesus' promise that he would be our bread for any
journey and our Living Water; and that he would be with us on the mountaintop
and in the valley of the shadow. As I held Sam, his body swaddled in a blanket,
I recalled one of the ancient names of God--Sheltering Arms--and trusted that
my young grandson would claim that love and blessing that God gives every
child.
I know that James and Jessica, like all loving
parents, have hopes and dreams for their firstborn. But I also know that not
even our wildest and most generous dreams can hold a candle to God’s dreams for
us. Blessings on you, Samuel James Ammons. Welcome to a world made more beautiful
by your presence and more perfect by God’s love.
