Yesterday, my sister had her first baby.
Sawyer Mar is completely beautiful, has a good set of lungs, and apparently has very long toes and fingers, though he was wrapped up tightly when I held him in my arms and told him how very glad we are to have him here.
It was a beautiful moment to be there in the room with my sister and her fiance, with family members young and old who has stood vigil in the hallway just outside of the labor and delivery unit.
The day was full of those moments when I wanted to breathe in deeply and just soak it in. It started at 7 a.m. when I got the call they were on the way to the hospital. My heart swelled with excitement and fear: there might
be a birth today. By 1:30 when I got the text that she was dilated to 7 cm and I should get to the hospital, I felt the urgency and immediacy: there would
be a birth today. When I was on the road making the two-hour drive to the hospital, I had a moment or two when I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be part of all of this: me, an aunt again.
It was a day filled with moments, each one to be treasured.
Unexpectedly, the fiery sun found freedom above the earth’s shoulder below the somber ceiling. The grass exploded before me like amber on a Baltic beach or bourbon magnifying the candle’s flame. Soon, the clouds again intervened. Just as quickly as it appeared, the magic moment went. The prairie faded back to its preppy khaki and grey rain-coat attire.
Moments like these are like “rare collectable ephemera worth treasuring,” Tim writes. That’s how I felt all day yesterday. Though I was just riding in a car or standing in a sterile hospital hallway or looking at photos over dinner at Denny’s, I felt the weight of these moments, understood even then that they are important, and began gathering them in a special place of remembrance.
My sister will no doubt rehearse the events of the day to Sawyer his whole life, but I want to be able to add the moments I experienced to the story. When he is five and fourteen and thirty-two, I want to be able to tell him about the fear and excitement, the urgency and the immediacy, and especially about the gratitude.
I want Sawyer to grow up knowing that all the moments of his life, even the ones just before he was born, are precious.
Join me for regular jaunts around The High Calling network, randomly visiting fellow bloggers, soaking up their words and ideas, and then coming back here to write about them from my perspective. This is what The High Calling network is all about, after all.
Our site is about casting a vision that is clear enough and inspiring enough that our readers can run with it on their own sites. We then spend the majority of our editorial time listening to them on their sites and helping them shine as writers. We believe in the power of the laity so much that we are relying on them and their audiences to help spread the vision that has been given to us. – Marcus Goodyear, senior editor, thehighcalling.org (from “The Challenge, Strategy, and Execution of Combining Web Properties” by Dan King on churchcrunch.com)
Each Thursday, consider going “There and Back Again” yourself. It’s simple.
1.) Choose another High Calling Blogger to visit. It can be someone you have “met” before, or do what I do, and work your way through the “Member Posts” section of thehighcalling.com to meet someone new.
2.) Visit his blog, digesting the message until it becomes something that you can write about.
3.) Go back to your blog and write about it, being sure to link to the post that gave you the idea so that your readers can visit, too.
4.) Add the button above to your blog so your readers know you are participating in “There and Back Again.”
5.) Go back to the Network blog and leave a comment so your new friend can feel the link love!
6.) Complete the journey by returning here, to Wide Open Spaces, and enter your link so that we all can benefit from the new High Calling connection you have made.