God sure knew what He was doing in the childbirth process. As grueling as it is for the mother, the laboring pains, we all know that it is oh so worth it. To hear that first borning cry – there really aren’t adequate words.

Of course, my wife Debbie did the heavy lifting – literally. Amy came out at 8 pounds 15 ounces at 8:15 p.m. I am not making that up. It was one doozie of a thunderstorm that my plane landed in from Norfolk to Dallas-Ft. Worth. I got my Navy leave approved just in time to catch that flight, without any time to get back to my apartment for my luggage. Thank gracious God that even back in 1988 we knew that Debbie’s labor would be induced, therefore buying us extra time.  Her Dad with the ice chips, her brothers also amazed to a point of speechlessness (rare indeed), and her Mom excited and anxious to make sure all went well for the delivery of her first grandchild. Oh – and “Top Gun” on the VHS! Everything as it should be, including the obstetrician’s name: Dr. Pickel. I am not making that up.

If you are similarly blessed, you have your own story to tell. The confirmation that the Garden of Eden directive still stands…”be fruitful and multiply”. The promise carried in vitro that humanity remains, the Creator’s crowning gift.

Amy screamed for her first two minutes of life as most newborns do. Then I got to hold  her. Still wailing. Until I kissed her, and then – immediate silence. I heard from someone, “hey! When you’ve got it, you’ve got it” The video camera faded out. Perfection. Such a wondrous gift, even if it had been a cattle stall. The where, the when, and the how of the Immaculate Conception and Holy Birth? We cant’ make that up, let alone conjure any sense about it. But God can and did. He, whose love overcomes political oppression, a tyrant’s rage, stormy weather, or the back seat of a taxi. Unconditional love and affirmation that the human race marches on one blessed birth at a time.

Pastor Art