Good Sunday morning
Part Two of my testimony on how God has been integral throughout my life.
There are many verses in the Bible which refer to how important each one of us is to God Our Father.
Two of the most famous are:
Jeremiah 1:5 (5) - Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations.
Ephesians 1:3–6 - (3) Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, (4) even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love (5) he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will,(6) to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.
I can relate to both these passages; well, to the first part of Jeremiah in any event. Prophesy is for people who are far attuned to God's Word than I am.
My birth was a little different and, to this day, I marvel that I survived.
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On the 26th of August, a new mother went into labour. For the young couple, this was the culmination of their dream. Their first child was about to enter the world and make their family complete.
Forty eight hours later, the baby had not yet been born.
The baby's head crowned within the first few hours but after about twelve hours the cervix began to contract and the baby was literally unable to move. The exhausted mother was also no longer capable of even raising her head. The situation was critical.
Much can be asked about why the medical staff allowed the situation to deteriorate to the extent that it had. In South Africa, vaginal birth was the accepted method of delivery until the 21st century so, to them, although the labour was unexpectedly long, it was accepted as natural.
When the husband arrived at the hospital after work to greet his new baby, he was approached by the doctor, who told him that the baby had died and would be stillborn. The shock took an even worse turn when he was told that his precious wife was also near death. His permission was requested to extract the foetus in order to save his wife. There was no question and he immediately gave his permission. As was normal in those days, husbands were not included in the birthing process and he waited in the waiting room for long hours to hear whether his wife had been saved.
When the doctor finally returned, a few hours later, he relayed an incredible story.
He had used double forceps to extract the foetus. The little head was completely malformed due to the compression of the contracting cervix and that made the use of the forceps more than usually difficult. The medical team struggled to release the foetus and eventually the doctor used all his strength to remove it. The body was released from the cervix in a rush and the baby screamed in agony. In his shock that the baby was alive, the doctor dropped it. It was such a deformed little thing, which weighed less than three pounds. That would create its own health complications if the baby survived.
The doctor hastily retrieved the dropped baby and handed it to the midwife, certain that it would not survive. He returned to save the mother who was, by this stage, drenched in perspiration and unconscious.
The baby's head was bulbous on the crown due to pressure and fluid. The rest of head was squashed in and skewed to one side. It was a poor-looking little thing.
The father was advised to go home and return the next day. The mother was in a critical condition and, if the baby survived the night, there were numerous health and developmental challenges with which the new parents would have to contend.
I was born sometime during the night of the 28th of August. Both my mother and I survived. God's hands were on both of us that night. There was a long recovery ahead for my mother and me. I was so small that, when we were finally allowed to go home, I fitted comfortably into a shoebox and was dressed in dolls' clothes.
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| Baby Doll in Shoebox |
I'll continue about my first year on another Sunday.
HANDS OF LOVE
Hands of Love
Touch the tiny face
Of his diminutive image
His miracle of grace
Smiling eyes
Meet sleepy eyes
One unfocused by tears
One a trusting newborn gaze
Hands of Love
Gentling a tiny young life
Within the cradling arms
Of a father’s tender love
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