Photo by Doralin Tunas
Life has taught me that birth and death are life's two most holy occasions. The creation of someone who has never existed in this world and the departure of someone whose uniqueness will never be duplicated again. One’s existence is a holy journey.
I stood as a visitor in the ornateness of the Cathedral of the Madeline in Salt Lake City, Utah, during their Christmas concert in 2011. I was singing along to a hymn with a full house of singers when a divine vision played out in my mind. Our first grandchild, due to be born in January, would be special, and I would be needed.
The holiness of that moment washed over me, and my singing stammered as I choked back tears, thinking about what had just been revealed to me. I didn’t know if it would be true or not. I waited to see and carried that thought in my mind for nearly a month until we received the call that our daughter had started experiencing labor pains at home.
A natural birth at a birthing center was her plan. When my wife and I arrived, the contractions were getting closer together, but not enough to leave their home yet. So, we waited. She lay in bed beside her husband as we waited in their living room. I will never forget the holiness of the expectant silence as the time grew nearer to moving to the birthing center.
When we arrived at the birthing center and the care of her midwives, we were hopeful for the birth to go smoothly. But our wish was denied. The birth wasn’t proceeding according to plan into the early morning hours. Our midwives said we needed to go to the nearest hospital, and waiting for an ambulance wasn’t an option.
So, we loaded her, her husband, her midwife, and my wife into our SUV. A snowstorm had happened while we were in the birthing center, and I peered through a small portal in the ice on the windshield as we cautiously drove down the icy streets to the hospital.
The ER doctor and our daughter did everything humanly possible to complete a natural childbirth. Still, my daughter finally had to accept that an emergency C-section was the only way to save the child. Her wish for natural childbirth would be denied, and the circumstances around it were traumatic. But as you can see in this picture, our granddaughter and daughter are now happy and healthy twelve years later.
An Unknown Need For Something Unexpected
The details of the vision were revealed two years after her birth when our granddaughter was diagnosed with autism. It required us to step into the unknown. My wife and I sold our Garden of Eden in the country and moved to downtown Salt Lake City to help with childcare. Then I changed jobs to be closer to home. That toxic environment didn’t work out well and burnt me out, and I took a sabbatical and learned some healing things about myself that I didn’t know before landing my current job.
These experiences give me some empathy for Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem and the birth of Jesus. Other than Mary, Joseph, and a few family members, most of Bethlehem was unaware that the Messiah had been born. Mary and Joseph believed and trusted what the angels had told them, but you have to wonder if they still had questions in their minds looking at baby Jesus.
The first question all first-time parents experience after the birth is, can we parent this being? It’s an intimidating thought, but even more so when your child has been designated to be extremely special to the world. Then you must flee your ancestral home and job to live in a foreign land for a time.
Mary would have to wait over thirty years to learn if it was true. Joseph may have never seen Jesus step into his calling. It took patience on their part and many sacrifices to care for the Messiah until he fled the nest, stepped into the water with John the Baptist, and was blessed by God into his role to reconcile the world to God through his sacrifice.
“God seeks to influence humanity. This is at the heart of the Christmas story. It is the story of light coming into the darkness, of a Savior to show us the way, of light overcoming the darkness, of God’s work to save the world.” – Adam Hamilton
The Blessed Unknown
Seven years after our granddaughter’s autism diagnosis, COVID-19 was a blessing because it forced us to homeschool her and discover the smartness behind her non-verbalness. It led us to one of the leading communication therapists and the right therapy, the rapid prompting method, where she could finally express herself.
Her public school special education had been a nightmare for her. Imagine having muscle control issues and being considered dumb when you can’t count to ten on command. Imagine being forced to sit through them teaching you to count to ten every day when you can already do double-digit math in your head. We had no way of knowing until COVID-19 taught us. Homeschooling was a tender mercy to her muted prayers.
We believe she has a photographic memory and has taught herself the concept of God in her life, for whom she is thankful. Her speech is very delayed, but there are signs that it will come in time. We have to work at it every day and wait. Thankfully her family has that patience. Her one wish left to be granted is to not be stared at and be able to have friends like neurotypical children.
Yes, my vision that night in the cathedral was true. She is special, and we are needed. We have adjusted to the sacrifices that it has taken. We are still waiting for her to reach her God-given potential like Mary and Joseph waiting for Jesus. I cannot foresee what the new year will bring into our lives, which is a blessing.
The holiness of birth lay in the unknown. Being unable to see ahead forces us to be open to the present. It forces us to pray to God to be delivered into the joy of a gift we didn’t know we needed. The answers to our prayers teach us how little we need to be happy versus our worldly wants. Yes, birth and the life that comes from it teach us many things that we should treasure deeply.
Our granddaughter continually teaches us how amazing she is by spelling her thoughts one letter at a time using a letter board using the rapid prompting method. Her attention span and muscle control challenges make it difficult for her to do it independently, but she is gradually learning.
In her most recent session, her therapist asked her to write a story, which she uses to unleash her creativity. Afterward, she completed her session by gradually spelling anything she liked to the world. She pointed her finger to each letter with pauses and prompts to refocus. She sometimes bites her hand in frustration over her muscle control. But what she wanted to let the world know is, “Inside, I am most full of plans to write a book.“
Maybe that might be one of her special gifts to the world that God has destined her to fulfill. Only time will tell for this lovely young woman about to turn twelve, and we will be by her side always, just as Mary was with Jesus.
Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber shared a quote from Lawrence Lee in her post on Substack titled “Christmas this year“ that sums up the birth of Christ and waiting for God’s vision to take shape. Let us enter the New Year with openness, hope, and patience as we prayerfully ask God to surprise us.
Lord, we come to worship the savior you sent us...
And we marvel at the manner of the sending.
In the midst of political upheaval, we hoped for a king.
In the midst of wars and rumors of wars, we hoped for a general.
In the midst of religious tumult and controversy, we hoped for a high priest.
But you send us a baby.[pause for bewildered reflection]
Interesting choice, God.
-Lawrence Lee