The World Has Gone Crazy. So What Do You Mean, “God’s in Control?”

A very dear friend of mine told me this week that she had gotten “the jab” long ago. It had to have been less than a year ago, but she had suffered no recognizable adverse effects. I’m still concerned because from what I’ve read, the effects on the immune system may not show up till a couple of years after the injections. So I just told her that I’m praying she doesn’t suffer vaccine injury. She answered with “God’s in control. Christians sometimes forget that.” I know she meant well, and she is still my dear friend. But I am still going to be praying for her.

This is where I insert a short list of all the craziness going on. Actually, it’s not really very short.

I would start with the fact that until I was 22 and out of the Air Force, I really never even knew anyone who was homosexual, nor had I seen someone who was homosexual, nor did I have any idea what a homosexual did for thrills. This was truly never talked about when I was growing up. That is not to say that the Bible never mentions homosexuality – it does! And it is clear about the matter. But in my lifetime, homosexuality has progressed from obscurity to … well, the intent is to make it mainstream, so it is constantly in our face, even down to children’s cartoons. The nation seems to have no more taboos, unless it is morality itself.

The moral decline, along with notably uncivilized, sometimes animalistic behavior in our fellow human beings, stands out as being unthinkable 50 years ago.

When I grew up, we were taught in school that our nation was a “melting pot,” where skin color didn’t matter – we all blend together into citizens of The United States, and we were proud of that. Now, the children are taught how to be a racist; to view others who have skin in various shades of brown (because nobody is really white or black or even “peach”) with suspicion and hate; to pick at them and gaslight them or to feel superior or inferior; to stay either angry or beaten into submission. Suddenly, our childhood heroes have become villains – Dr. Seuss, George “I Cannot Tell a Lie” Washington, Abraham “Free the Slaves” Lincoln, … who knew?

If that’s not enough, we can also transfer the same guilt or self-righteousness to whether we wear a mask in public or get a shot with an experimental drug. Finger pointing and yelling at one another is the order of the day.

But though we can point out someone else’s skin shade and shame them for it, or we can shame someone for wearing a MAGA hat or for not wearing a mask on an airplane, we are not allowed to even question someone for being so grossly obese that they cannot exit their house, or a man for dyeing his long, overgrown hair in rainbow colors, or Satanists for tattooing their eyelids. It’s also perfectly okay to cut off your nose (to spite your face?) or to give yourself horns by way of a plastic surgeon, or to claim you are a woman instead of a man or vice versa. And you are allowed (and encouraged) to bully the naysayers until they agree with you.

It is okay to blame cows for hurricanes while continuing to build condos on the beach. It is okay to blame Christians for spreading disease, but forbidden to fault the Chinese for creating the virus in the first place. And as everybody knows, kneeling in protest during the national anthem before a football game is acceptable, but not if you’re kneeling to pray.

What happened to the world? When I was growing up, there were censors. They bleeped out or rejected R-rated materials on TV shows, to save the innocence of the children. But it wasn’t about the marketplace of ideas – it was about dirty words. 

But today, as I write this, I was censored three times on Facebook for my content. One was when I showed the “injection site” on my arm and expressed my chagrin over the “jab” inflicted by the weaponized mosquito. Another was when I shared a satirical Babylon Bee article explaining that the best way to convince people to get the shot was to scream at them until they agreed with you. The zealous algorithms of Facebook struck again and again, to promote the narrative that the Covid shot was safe and effective, never mind that 60% of serious hospitalizations of people with the Delta variant now were those who had had both of their shots.

Here’s a quote from George Orwell. I did look it up and he actually did say it, in his book, “1984:”

“Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.” ― George Orwell, 1984

When did we lose that freedom? Because it appears that if it is not allowed to speak the truth, for instance, that Planned Parenthood sells baby parts for profit, and if those who speak the truth are marginalized, mocked, and actually punished with fines and imprisonment, then this is not a free country anymore.

And if the attacks on our freedoms are not sufficiently challenged, but we complacently comply, we will lose them all. This will not give us peace in our society, but more weakness, violence, poverty, and anguish.

Meanwhile, we hear those who would remind us:

“Just remember, God’s still on the throne.”

And we wonder, where did they get that, anyway? It sounds like a line from a song. Did somebody make that up? Or is it true? What throne? Does it matter if He’s on the throne, when the world is going crazy, and He doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it?

But you can’t really say anything, because it will show that you doubt that God’s in control. And then, you would really be in the doghouse! 

Is He? How do we know? Where does it say in the Bible that He’s on the throne, when the world seems crazy and out of control?

Does God control us? Is He a control freak? And what if I didn’t want to be controlled?

Is He on the throne, or will that come later? Jesus said we should be praying “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.” Does that mean His kingdom is for a later date?

If Satan is the prince of the air, and Jesus is the Prince of Peace, is there a question at all about who will ultimately be King?

And one more: Is “God’s on the throne” an excuse for adopting an attitude of complacency? 

If you’ve ever had any of these thoughts when someone shrugged and spouted off “God’s in control,” or “God’s still on the throne,” with no explanation, you’re not alone. It’s easy to wonder how “in control” He is when you pray every day at 3:00 that the Planned Parenthood in Lafayette will be shut down, … but it’s still there, one of only 4 places in the State of Indiana that still does abortions.

Here’s what I read this morning in Psalms:

For He has strengthened the bars of your gates; He has blessed your children within you.

He makes peace in your borders, And fills you with the finest wheat.

 ~Psalm 147:`13-14

But God, I have a relative whose daughter may be suffering from vaccine injury – at least, she’s having some questionable side effects. We have a crisis at the southern border, an invasion of foreign nationals “of epic proportions.” And we have runaway inflation that’s showing up at the grocery store and the gas pump. All of this has happened within the last six months ...

But it’s time to answer all these questions.

What and Where is God’s Throne, and is He on it?

God’s throne is referenced many times throughout the Bible. 

“The LORD is in His holy temple, The LORD's throne is in heaven; His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men.”

~Psalm 11:4

“The LORD has established His throne in heaven, And His kingdom rules over all.”

~Psalm 103:19

“The LORD sat enthroned at the Flood, And the LORD sits as King forever.” 

~Psalm 29:10

“Clouds and darkness surround Him; Righteousness and justice are the foundation of His throne.”

~Psalm 97:2

“For You have maintained my right and my cause; You sat on the throne judging in righteousness.” 

~Psalm 9:4

These verses in Psalms alone give us a pretty clear picture that God is the King on the Throne, in Heaven. He is not, as some Deists would dare to believe, someone who dropped Man off on the planet and then over time, simply munches popcorn and watches him to see what he will do. Hardly! He is alive, well, active, approachable, and intensely interested in us.

God is pictured on His throne in more than one place, and identified as “The Ancient of Days,” or simply, “The Lord,” These references will aid in your study of what it is like in Heaven, with God on the throne. It is awesome!

~Isaiah 6:1-3

~Ezekiel 1:24-28

~Daniel 7:9-14

~Revelation 4

Jesus mentions God’s throne. He even warned people not to swear by it! He has predicted that He would be given the Kingdom of His Father when He comes in His glory, and then He would sit on the throne. And in Revelation, He promised believers who overcame that they would be granted the honor of sitting with Him on His throne.

Is God in Control?

We have a great example in Job, where we see God granting Satan an audience and allowing him to mess with His servant Job – to a point. He was not allowed to take Job’s life. Yes, ultimately God is in control of the world, and our lives, and what Satan is allowed to do here.

How is it, then, that evil men are allowed to plot and scheme, to martyr God’s people, to close churches and cause ⅓ of Christians to lose interest in going to a house of worship? How do we reconcile what seems to be a vast difference between God ruling and reigning, and what we see with our eyes all around us?

The disastrous state of the world is a direct result of sin. It’s because of mankind’s bad choices and our rebellion against God and His goodness, that we are in this mess at all, but God has allowed this to happen for His own reasons, which are far greater than our capability to reason.

Here’s something I also read in Psalm 147:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

~Psalm 147:3

It is clear then, that there will always be brokenhearted, and there will always be wounded. In the 20th Century alone, six million Jews were slaughtered, and that’s only one example. But even so, and whatever we’re going through, God is there to comfort and to heal.

He’s there to comfort the family of the man who died when he and his riding mower fell into the pond last week. 

He’s there to comfort the families whose fathers and grandparents have recently died, some of them alone in nursing homes on lockdown. 

And He is with the little children who were abandoned alone in the desert by coyotes who smuggled them across our southern border. (Woe unto those coyotes!)

Woe to those coyotes! Clearly, David says in the Psalms:

“For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, But the way of the ungodly shall perish. 

~Ps. 1:6

“Great is our Lord, and mighty in power; His understanding is infinite.

The LORD lifts up the humble; He casts the wicked down to the ground.”

~Ps. 147:5-6 

And yet, many of these kinds of verses are just not fulfilled ... yet. But these are promises. There will be a day of reckoning, and then – the wicked will come to a disastrous end, for all of the evil they have foisted upon the world.

Is “God’s on the throne” an excuse for complacency?

I believe that it has become a Christian cliché. That’s why I have made a study of it, to find out and document the truth of the statement itself. But while it is undeniably true, it is also so easy to shrug off the problems of the world with a fatalistic attitude. And so, there are variants of the same fatalism:

“Don’t worry – the Lord is coming back soon!”

“The Bible says it’s going to get bad in the Last Days – there’s nothing we can do to stop that.”

If we, the Church, forget that we are the most powerful force on Earth, because we are the temple of the Holy Spirit of God … then we, by that bit of forgetfulness, have laid down the weapons of our warfare and surrendered to the enemy. We are to occupy until He comes. That is a battle instruction. There is no place for “Que sera sera” in the Kingdom of God.

The examples I’ve given above, where people are hurting and needy, or where the nation is in trouble, or where the world seems to be going crazy, mean there is action that needs to happen while we are occupying. We, as God’s soldiers, must participate however we can, with physical, material help, encouraging words and advice, or just some needed, sincere sympathy. For our friends in need and for the nation and the world, we need to pray without ceasing. Those prayers are not overlooked by our Father in Heaven, who is seated on His throne, nor by His Son Yeshua, the successor to the throne.

And when we pray, we may find that God is calling us to do more, and use our position of influence for changing our present circumstances or holding back the gates of hell – which, by the way, He stated unequivocally, could not prevail against The Church. And it goes without saying that if He gives us marching orders, that is not something to ignore. Faith, our faith in God, is a dead faith if we have no works to show for it. (For reference, see the Book of James.)

Our Future with The King:

After our life here is wrapped up, we the Church, who are a nation of kings and priests unto God, will rule and reign with Him for a thousand years. 

Illustration by Susie Haley, for Revelation class, 

Calvary Chapel Bible College in Indianapolis

Yes! Our God is King of Kings and Lord of Lords. And we will reign with Him on earth. Imagine that if you can! 

“And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and have made us kings and priests to our God; and we shall reign on the earth.’" 

~Rev. 5:9-10

“But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy. 

~1 Peter 2:9-10

When it Rains, It Pours, Or Baptism Part II

It seems the country is stuck in a weather pattern right now, where the West is suffering from extreme heat, but we’re just getting a lot of rain here. A whole lot of rain. Which, in itself, is a gift from God. Whenever in the Scriptures God has spoken of opening the windows of Heaven and pouring out a blessing, it means rain. Rain makes the crops grow. Rain on a fertile field is income and food. It is God’s provision.  The corn is tall, and the 4-H Crops projects look REALLY good this year!

But too much rain is concerning. I mean, ask Noah! Okay, if that’s too hard, read about him in Genesis. What you might notice is that God prepared Noah and his family for the worldwide flood He was about to send by giving him the plans and the command to build an ark of safety, and He also gave others an opportunity to accompany him on the cruise. This was rather like baptism ... 

Eric at Ark Encounter

I remember back when I was attending the Spiritual Life Conference at California Lutheran College back in the 70s, with other members of the Luke AFB Chapel. As a teen, I was included with the adults in a workshop on drama ministry, and we put on a skit of our own making that was a take-off on the Peanuts cartoon strip. I was cast as “Suzy,” who was supposed to be Lucy VanPelt. I only remember one of my lines, because it was so very simple. After listening to the Charlie Brown character (“Ricky Smith”) go on and on for awhile in an extended monologue about spiritual truths he was realizing through hard times, my line was:

“That’s ridiculous, Ricky Smith! Nobody would react that way to adversity.” 

At the time, I didn’t understand the line because I didn’t know what “adversity” meant. So it was pretty easy to play someone who was using a word far beyond their age level. But Ricky Smith’s part was taking the approach that God can use our adversity to build character in us, to make us wise, to strengthen us, to help others … oh yes – there are many things God can do with us when we are so overcome by our circumstances that we make a little extra time in our day to cry out to Him!

So fast forward back to our current weather pattern. Fortunately, we don’t live next to the Wabash or the Tippecanoe, local rivers which, while they are a beautiful part of where we live, can be hazardous when spring rains decide to cover up your street and isolate you from the rest of the world, or invade your house itself. One year, as I recall, several people lost their homes when they were flooded and then the weather turned cold and froze all that water. The rest of the county heard about our neighbors who had lost everything, and everybody pitched in to donate clothing for the unfortunate families – several tables were piled high in the basement of the Presbyterian church, but they really didn’t need that much!

The only flooding we had ever had over the years was just across our property line, where the Popejoys’ property became a swimming pool, but our yard was high and dry.  And our kids will remember a couple of neighbor kids across the tracks, who wanted our kids to put on their swimming suits and enjoy the floodwaters with them at their house, but we didn’t let them.  I know, we’re killjoys!

That is, until the new highway came in. 

And now, more and more often, the storm sewers are not keeping up with heavy rains, but are causing some of the basements here in Burrows to back up with stormwater, mixed with some raw sewage. It has happened at least five times this year alone. And it costs far too much in maintenance or replacement of basement appliances like furnaces, which have been in our basement here since the late 1800’s. Last Monday night, it happened again, and we’ve been taking cold sponge baths ever since. Eric found a headless, bloated dead rat floating atop the waves, and when they subsided, he bleached it and carried it out of the basement in a shovel.

Sure, there’s a certain amount of good-natured reaction at first, that goes like this:

“Well, now, I guess God just really wanted to bless the furnace repairman.”

And it’s good-natured as long as you have enough income to cover it. But what if you don’t? And how long until the situation becomes very old and you realize this is not a rare occurrence but a frequently repeated one? We’re supposed to be able to retreat to our basement in case of a tornado. But if it comes during a torrential rainfall, we will have to wade in the murky water to escape the high winds. This is not ideal.

At this juncture, we are trying to let the water heater dry out and see if we can get it to re-start. Maybe, just maybe we won’t have to shell out hundreds more dollars again. Calls to the County Surveyor’s office by us and several neighbors including the fire department, have only brought the answer, “The county doesn’t have any money to fix the storm sewers.”

Of course, we’ve all heard the saying “When it rains, it pours,” which became the slogan for the Morton Salt company along with the little girl with the umbrella. The meaning is, doesn’t it just seem like we can’t just have one thing go wrong – everything has to go wrong all at once!

In our case, there were other financial difficulties that happened at the same time as this last water-in-the-basement episode.  While I won’t go into all the details, this really complicated our lives.

Eric sat me down and outlined several possibilities he’d thought of, none of which we could really afford. 

There’s excavating our yard out to the storm sewer, which is made of hollow clay tiles laid end-to-end, and installing a double trap system so that the water can’t back up into our house – instead it would back up into our garage. Then we’d have to do the same thing to our garage. And then, the water might just back up into the streets through that manhole near the old general store.

There is the possibility of just sealing off the drain hole in our basement. But there are some pipes that he’s not sure where they lead to and we would not know the effects of that till they happened.

There’s the sump pump idea. Great! That would pump the water out to … where? To make a cesspool in our yard?

There’s the idea of getting a new water heater that is shorter so we can place it a couple feet higher in the basement. But what if the next time, the water is three feet high instead of two feet high?  And the short fat ones are electric.  Do we want an electric water heater in a basement that floods?

And there’s the idea of taking away all the wooden cabinets in my pantry and installing the water heater in there instead. That would be to accept that we can no longer use our basement for any purpose but to surrender it to oft-repeated invasions of stormwater and the disgusting smell that accompanies it. And, we have to accept the reduction in our normal living space, making room for those basement appliances.

So what have we learned? Because we are having financial difficulties at the same time as the storm sewer woes, we are able to empathize with other neighbors who also can’t afford excavations and such. One neighbor approached the County with storm sewer problems, and instead of offering to help, the County offered to condemn their property. So they dug a hole in their yard and broke the sewer line to their house to drain the sewage into the yard, so it wouldn’t back up in their toilets. They just have to live with the pool. Another neighbor said that everything that’s done on our street is basically illegal, but people are just trying to do whatever they can, while the County looks the other way.

No, we aren’t going to be able to keep silent on the question. It’s not just about us. We’ll need to try to find long-term solutions, going to our neighbors, the County, our Liberty Township Trustee and Advisory Board, our homeowner’s insurance agent, and … if need be, the EPA.  This can’t continue.

On Wednesday, when things looked the most grim, the thing to do was to go to church, as is our custom. There’s no doubt in my mind that God will provide for us, His dear children. We were only flabbergasted about how it could happen. What we needed was to hear God’s promises, and we needed the prayers of God’s people.

Here are some of the verses I circled in my Bible when we were going through several chapters in Psalms:  (Note:  This is from the Tree of Life Version, and sometimes verse numbers are different.)

“But I trust in Your lovingkindness, my heart rejoices in Your salvation.

I will sing to ADONAI, because He has been good to me.” ~Psalms 13:6

“Since He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” ~Psalm 16:8

“Protect me like the pupil of the eye.” ~Ps. 17:8

“For You save lowly people.” ~Ps. 18:28

“He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him.” ~Ps. 18:31

These promises are to God’s people.  And I am one of those!

What did our ancestor Noah learn when the waters were overwhelming him and indeed, the whole earth? In his case, he learned that God is with those who love Him, even through the flood.  

Here’s a beautiful old hymn that reminds us of that, that we learned and then Eric used to lead our congregation in worship during the Sunday morning church service, after a week of cold showers:

God Leads His Dear Children Along.

In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet

God leads His dear children along

Where the water's cool flow bathes the weary one's feet

God leads His dear children along

Some through the waters, some through the flood

Some through the fire, but all through the blood

Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song

In the night season and all the day long

Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright

God leads His dear children along

Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night

God leads His dear children along

Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose

God leads His dear children along

Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes

God leads His dear children along

Away from the mire, and away from the clay

God leads His dear children along

Away up in glory, eternity's day

God leads His dear children along

Referring back to baptism, what do we also see? God doesn’t lead His children to the flood and drop us off there or let us drown. He leads us through it. The Israelites were “baptized” in the Red Sea, with water towering over them to either side. But their enemies were drowned in it.

“Moreover, brethren, I do not want you to be unaware that all our fathers were under the cloud, all passed through the sea, all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea.” ~1 Cor. 10:1-2

When I first began writing this, the rain was still falling outside, and it looked like we’d still be having showers and thunderstorms all weekend. If it doesn’t calm down soon, we may never see that water heater dry out.

But we can have utmost confidence that even when it pours, even when it floods, even when the waters surround us and we feel, like Jonah, that we’re surely going through hell, God is right there with us, leading us through it and walking (or swimming?) alongside us. 

Baptism symbolizes … a Resurrection.  And with that, Adonai gives His children peace.

Family and Baptism – Birth and Death

The tiger lilies are gone, and the corn in the fields has tassels and the ears are sporting colorful silk. June 20, the summer equinox, has passed, and Time marches on, double time, towards winter again.

Brown is the color of the autumn leaves

When the winter comes to the barren trees

There is birth, there is death, there is a plan

And there’s just One God, and there’s just One Man

Who can give us life, who can make us grow

That can make our sins as white as snow.

~The Coloring Song, by Petra

After the excitement on Thursday over the birth of Adaline (my 20th grandchild), I came home on Friday, worked furiously, wrote down some of the details of the birth, and then we immediately plunged into the 4th of July weekend.

The 4th of July is always a grand time at Calvary Chapel Lafayette. Even when we had a church of our own in Delphi, we always somehow managed to come to CC Lafayette afterwards for the celebration of the birth of our nation. As is the usual case with a holiday on a particular day, it shifts from year to year, but this year, 2021, the 4th was on Sunday, and that made it even better. 

Pastor Joe loves Independence Day, and every year, a huge flag is draped in front of the door of the church like the veil in front of the Holy of Holies. Several of our worship leaders have balked at the thought of playing too many patriotic songs, but I believe Pastor Joe would have been delighted if we could have arranged to have a drummer and a fifer with a bandage across his forehead, marching down the center aisle towards the platform. In times past, we had arranged for our kids to sing “God Bless America” like Kate Smith, or “This is My Country” like Pat Boone. But this year, they were mostly all gone, so Pastor Joe invited a special guest from Florida (who’s spending the summer here in the Hoosier state) to sing “God Bless the U.S.A.” I was expecting President Trump to enter at any moment!

But before the service even started, I was surprised to see Valerie’s in-laws sitting behind us, and found out that Susie and Joe’s seven-year-old son Sammy would be baptized that morning. How did I miss that? These relatives had just decided to come early, while other sibling family members – Sammy’s aunts and uncles and cousins – would be coming later on, after their own church services.

Pastor Joe prefaced his sermon by repeating his wife’s admonition to “not scare everybody.” Because it’s supposed to be a joyful holiday after all. But I knew what was on his mind, because I’d read the same news articles. Our nation has enemies who are determined to crush us, and they are working overtime towards that end. 

Here’s part of a passage from Joel 2:

“‘Now, therefore,’ says the LORD, ‘Turn to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.’

“So rend your heart, and not your garments; return to the LORD your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness; and He relents from doing harm. Who knows if He will turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind Him?”

America may be dying. Pastor Joe said as much – that perhaps this, her 245th birthday celebration, could be her last one. But America’s birthday is one of several all-American feast days, so this was not going to be a day of weeping and fasting. Not yet. Stay tuned, though.

Outside in the parking lot, a large tent had been erected, with iron pegs hammered right into the pavement – somewhat reminiscent of the Jesus People days of early Calvary Chapel. Our church members had invited their friends and promised they’d find fellowship amongst our church family (which they did!) A large pool had been set up next to the tent, with children ready to swim, and a small kiddie wading pool next to it with balls floating in it.

Someone had donated a large amount of meat for the grill. My peanut butter Rice Krispy treats didn’t hold up when taken outside – they kind of melted into a stack of crumbs – but there was enough other carry-in food that no one went hungry.

A whole section of tables was dedicated to Sammy’s relations, and there were actually quite a few of us altogether. At one point, Robyn’s son Ambrose (4) was spotted climbing the ladder to the pool. He either wanted to swim, or he wanted to be like his cousin and get baptized, but either way, he was strongly encouraged to dismount the ladder.

After we had eaten enough grilled food and sides, Sammy mounted the ladder, eased into the water, and was baptized by his father Joe and Pastor Joe. 

Afterwards, I mused that our nation was birthed 245 years ago, under perilous conditions.

Adaline had been born about 3½ days earlier, also under perilous conditions, and we were all praying and holding our breaths, that it would happen safely.

Today, Sammy had been baptized, as an outward expression of an inward change. He had received Christ as his Savior and Lord several years ago, but now he had plucked up enough courage to follow his Lord in baptism. Was it perilous? Well, it involved death …

One born, and one born again. How excellent are your ways, O Lord!

That was Sunday. Then, on Friday night, Eric and I worked on family genealogy, and I entered Adaline in the family pages of the family Bible Robyn had made for us when she was still working at Leonard’s. Our family is growing! The family of God is growing. But look at this:

This poster had been placed on the ledge above the stairwell, where sunlight passing through a very large window shone down on it until all the writing had faded. Now we’ve freshened it up, adding information we only recently found out. Notice how only six generations from our kids, it had taken 64 individual people to come together and pass on their DNA in the forming of each of our kids. Now think of the thousands of individual people who are also our ancestors, who lived before our time. And now ponder the fact that with the exception of my dad, everyone born before Eric and me has already died. Those who had a personal relationship with Jesus are already with Him in Heaven.

And some of these same ancestors, along with God’s angels and the current crowd of church family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents who came for the festivities, are part of the great cloud of witnesses, who watched and cheered when Sammy was baptized.

“… buried with Him in baptism, in which you also were raised with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead.”

~Colossians 2:12

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us … ”

~Hebrews 12:1

There is birth, there is death, there is a plan

And there’s just One God, and there’s just One Man

Who can give us life, who can make us grow

That can make our sins as white as snow

~The Coloring Song, by Petra

There is birth. Happy Birthday, Addie, and Happy Birthday, America!

There is death … and rebirth. Baptism is a re-enactment of the profound truth that there is no salvation apart from the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Without Him, we would be still dead in our sins. With Him, there is Re-birth, and there is Life.

There is a Plan! God is still on the Throne. His Plan is perfect and it is hindered by no one.

It’s been a very good week!

A Birth Story

Last week, we had a birthday! I can think of little else, so let me tell you all about it. No, it wasn’t the 245th birthday of our nation, which was notable. It was our 20th grandbaby. 

And this is certainly not the only way this story can be told, but it’s how my life intersected with the others who were involved.

I had been telling everybody that we had two weddings coming up in May and two babies in July. My dad came up for Father’s Day and asked when Vivi was due. He told me he was rooting for July 9 because that was his birthday, but when I passed that on, Vivi didn’t think it was possible to schedule that for him. “Baby will come when baby’s ready!” she said. I was pretty sure that was a direct quote from a midwife.

They had it all worked out, and I was pleased with their arrangements. Vivi and Andrew had made reservations at a birthing center in Michigan, not far from their home near the state line in Indiana. Competent midwives practiced there, under the care of a doctor, and she was getting great advice for this, her first birth. I couldn’t be there for her day-to-day questions about what was happening to her body, or to give her advice, but she knew what to do. Yes, she might hurt her back if she moved wrong, but you learn quickly about your limitations when you’re pregnant, and it will all come back next time.

One day, she messaged me, “Mom, you are going to come up and be there for my birth, aren’t you?” She couldn’t see the broad smile on my face, but I immediately messaged her back, “I sure am! I was just waiting for you to ask! I would dearly love to.” And I knew that whatever was happening in early July was only tentative for me. I would drop everything for the opportunity to travel to Michigan and be a support person for my baby daughter’s birth.

Still, I was unprepared when on June 29, just before midnight, Andrew texted me that Vivi’s water had broken. We’d gone to bed before that, and he was unable to get through to us since my phone was on mute and we don’t hear any phones downstairs while we’re sleeping upstairs. I only woke up around 5:30 because there was a bug crawling on my head and I threw him. We turned on the lights to find him and see if he was dangerous. Then, I glanced at my phone to see what time it was, and I found Andrew’s message.

So now it was Wednesday, June 30, and I messaged him back: “Are you sleeping?” (Great question to ask a sleeping person!) 

“Yes,” came the reply. “Her contractions haven’t started, so we were told to try to get some sleep.”

I couldn’t go back to sleep easily with a possible birth on my mind. Gotta do payroll, gotta pack clothes – how long will I stay? Good thing I got an antibiotic and I’m feeling better now – last week I couldn’t have done this, I was so sick from that sinus infection. Remember the antibiotic!! Bring all those supplements, and my other meds. Might as well pack some Nutrisystem meals that keep well. Don’t forget these other work details … I may need to drink a lot of coffee!

Shortly after I finally did drop back off to sleep, Siri woke us up at 7. Eric’s pastor prayer breakfast. Okay, end of night, time for getting ready for the day!

I was in and out of the office, just trying to keep up with the most pressing things, starting with payroll. But when the notion hit me, I would leave and pack some things. Vegetables? Almond milk? What about them? My toothbrush? Hmmm … better wait. Vivi gave me addresses to plug into the GPS: her house, and also the birthing center.

I told Eric he would have to go to church without me. I needed to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The only way we could do that would be for him to use the car that’s near death. Could he get to Lafayette? Would he be able to get back home?

Vivi visited the midwife at the birthing center and found out there was a problem: no contractions. Babies can’t do well without that amniotic fluid for very long – certainly not longer than a day. After the water breaks, there’s a risk of infection. So, first it was recommended that Andrew and Vivi go home and try to start those contractions with castor oil. But when that really didn’t work, it was further recommended that she go to the hospital, where they could start up contractions with Pitocin. Though it was understandably disappointing that she wouldn’t be giving birth at the birthing center, for the baby’s sake, she needed to make sure she was born soon.

Then I got a call from Vivi to update me on all this, along with one bit of important news. “Mom?” she said, “I need to tell you that I’ll be going to the hospital now, and they will probably be limiting the number of people in the room to two. So, Andrew and I talked it over, and because his mom is a nurse, we thought she would be the best one to be there besides Andrew. She can interpret what’s going on so we can make good decisions. So it looks like you won’t be able to come. Is that okay with you?”

I could hear the sadness in her voice, and I fought down the lump in my throat. I had tried so hard to be positive about everything, choosing not to bring up her sisters’ recent difficult births, telling absolutely no horror stories – everybody’s got ‘em – and keeping my cool. But this was really hard – the so-called “Covid rules.” I was horribly disappointed but said, “Yes, I understand, it’s just what you’ve gotta do these days. I can just stay here and be the prayer team coordinator or something … “

Okay, so don’t pack the fresh veggies, but it’s not terrible that my clothes are packed and those Nutrisystem meals are in the little cooler. I still wanted Eric to go to church without me. Somehow, I needed to be here … just in case. 

But then after he left, at about 7:00, I got another call. “Mom! We called and talked to somebody at the hospital so we could know for sure about their rules, and they said it would be all right if you and Andrew’s mom want to take turns being in the labor room!”

“I’m on my way!” 

I programmed “Ft. Wayne Dupont Hospital” into the GPS, and sent one quick text to Eric: “I’m going to Ft. Wayne!!” After setting up “The Chosen” livestream on the Roku for Eric for when he got back, I remembered my toothbrush, my pillow, my GPS, my phone AND the charger, and my heavier sweater for cold hospitals. I decided against any perishables. And I had no idea how long I would stay or what my plans were other than, “Go now.” Approaching Ft. Wayne, I remembered that I had forgotten my other toiletries – but at least I had my toothbrush!

Upon arrival, Andrew led the way to the labor room, where, just before I arrived at about 10:00, the staff had just started Vivi on fluids and a low dose of Pitocin through the I.V. in her hand. She had felt a few small contractions and started the evening by eating some spicy dried meat sticks of some kind, and tiny goldfish cheese crackers. I was already impressed that the hospital hadn’t forbidden any food. They usually will say no food after labor starts because Mom might get nauseous, but Mom needs energy to do the hard work ahead of her.

But as I came in, Andrew’s mom was still sitting there, and was just getting ready to exit, when the night nurse came in and explained that there were only supposed to be two people in the room. Vivi and Andrew said they had talked to someone who said it would be okay if we took turns, but she said hospital policy was that it was always supposed to be the same two people. Uh-oh. So she went to double check on this case, and glory be! When she came back, she said, “It’s okay, you can stay, and you can both be in here the whole time. We’ll just ‘go big!’” Hurray!!!

Vivi and Andrew informed us that even though they had had no gender reveal and wanted to tell everybody after the birth, they knew it was a girl and they figured their helpers should also know. I was totally wrong and lost the baby pool I’d helped set up, but that was fine.

Now, everyone was expecting Vivi to get some sleep. I wasn’t so sure of that. Pitocin causes some pretty difficult contractions, and Vivi had no bag of waters to cushion the blow (like bubble wrap!). But she tried to relax, and one by one, others, who were used to sleeping during periods of darkness, drifted off to sleep. Vivi had contractions to manage, about 4 minutes apart, but she was calm and quiet, probably trying not to wake the others. 

We onlookers also glanced over at the monitor from time to time, which drew little hills or jagged peaks as the contractions ebbed and flowed. I remembered previous births, where the mom would be working very hard through a contraction, but the onlookers were unimpressed because the hill the monitor drew was just not that big. The doula in the room told us, “Don’t judge a contraction by that monitor. Mom knows what she’s feeling.” 

So I watched her. And then things started looking a little tougher. She was making some noise now, some light groaning. I didn’t say anything, but the Mom instinct kicked in, and I jumped up to take a position next to her. Everything I’d learned from all those previous births was available to me, and right now, the thing to do was to stroke her leg. Down, down, in the direction of her foot. Others looked up and noticed the taller peaks. And they wanted to help too. Andrew held her hand at first and was great at back pressure. His mom was actually very good at interpreting signals the nurses were giving each other. We fetched and carried, offered cool washcloths for her forehead, and offered encouraging words when we could.

Sometimes, nurses requested that Vivi flip over to her other side because of what they had seen on the baby’s part during a contraction. Vivi tried a couple of different birthing positions – on hands and knees, or “dancing” with Andrew – but she said in the end, she was more comfortable just staying on her side. I understood that entirely. In my experience, the best thing was to let me stay on my side and work through the labor by myself. I really disliked people blowing on my face during a contraction. I knew what to do and what my body was doing better than anyone else.

But there was an unmistakable signal she gave, and that was when she said, despairingly, “OH NO! Here comes another one, already!!” Glancing at the monitor, I noticed only a tiny dip between long, hard contractions. The transition phase! And she complained about pain lower down.

“I can do ALL THINGS through Christ … “ I heard my strong daughter saying. I knew what it took for her to say that, and it gave me a reminder that I needed to encourage her as well. More than ever, she needed to hear how she could do it! That God was giving her strength. That the baby was almost there and would be just as beautiful as she was. I reminded her how my midwife had told me, when Vivi was born, that she was “dangerously cute.” That was her middle name, “Belle,” coming true as though prophetically.

I told the rest of my crew that the two hard back-to-back contractions were an important sign, and she should be checked. The nurse came in when summoned and asked kindly, “Do you feel like you have to push, hon?” Well no, she didn’t have to push. But did she really want to wait till then? “If you want me to, I’ll check you.”

“I don’t know … “ Vivi said, unable to really get a handle on what she wanted. So I told the nurse yes, she should be checked. And, as I expected, she was fully dilated. The nurse said, “Okay, I’ll come in and check her in about an hour.” An hour? Really?

About then, Vivi told us, “I don’t think I can do this! I didn’t think I’d ever want an epidural, but now … This is harder than I ever imagined it could be!“

“Vivi,” I said, looking deep into her eyes, “Did you hear what the nurse said? You are almost done. You’re fully dilated! This is not the time to get an epidural!”

“Well, do they have something like … laughing gas?”

“Nitrous oxide?” the nurse asked. “Yes, of course! You want that?”

“Yes, please!” And they brought her a little machine with a clear mask. 

I recalled how, a long time ago when David was a toddler, he had to have work done on several small cavities in his baby teeth. The dentist used nitrous oxide then too, and David chose the purple mask, the “grape nose.” We had kept that grape nose as a souvenir and a toy, for a pretty long time.

“Nitrous oxide,” the nurse explained, “doesn’t affect Baby and it doesn’t last long. It just takes the edge off the pain.” They tried putting that mask over her face during a contraction, but Vivi wanted to deal with the contraction and then put it on. In the end, she was done with the laughing gas within a few contractions. She needed to breathe oxygen.

Suddenly, “I HAVE to PUSH!!” It had only been a half-hour since I had identified transition.

And then we had to find that nurse again, who checked to be sure everything was out of the way so Baby could get through, then find Rachel, and gather up the equipment and supplies. I had had a feeling that waiting an hour wasn’t going to happen!

And then, it was time. Briefly during that pushing stage, I would recall being there for her two sisters, who pushed for hours and then had emergency C-sections. I also know there’s a greater risk of a C-section in a hospital with a Pitocin-induced labor. My encouraging calls of “You can do it!” rang a little hollow in my own ears. Oh God, let this one work, I breathed.

Rachel was competent, but I kept my eye on her expressions. While she was generally cheery and fun, she and her helpers talked in hushed tones about “a little meconium,” and “earlier” and “later,” which Andrew’s mom translated for us. Meconium is a bowel movement, which would be very bad for a baby because it could be inhaled and get into her lungs. “Earlier” and “later'' were referring to when there was a dip in Baby’s heartrate, in conjunction with a contraction. One was good, and the other was bad. They were looking for signs of stress in the baby.

It wasn’t long before Vivi’s pushing, which was great and effective since she had had no pain-deadening drugs, had moved the baby down the canal to where Rachel said, “Baby’s head is just … right there. Do you want to feel it?”

Vivi didn’t answer that, so I just said, “Do you have a mirror?” And they did – a nice big one! She was thrilled to see that baby head! “Vivi,” I said, “do you want to feel her head?” She wasn’t sure, and she scrunched up her nose. “Vivi. Go ahead. You should feel your baby’s head!” And when the nurses pulled her hand over towards the bulge that was “right there,” she gave a squeal of delight. All evening when she had been asked, “Do you want to do this,” or “Do you want to do that,” she had only replied, “I just want to get this baby out!” Now was the time. It was happening.

Baby’s head began to approach the opening with each series of three pushes whenever Vivi had another contraction, but then it would pull back in between them. Once, when the head was halfway out, the contraction was over, and Vivi had to stop. “This head should be out with the next push,” Rachel said, but it took two more. She also had to stuff the baby girl’s hands back in, because she was trying to come out with both hands alongside her face. “I do that, too,” Vivi said, recognizing a personality trait in the baby before she was even born.

With the second contraction, Baby Girl’s head finally came out, her body was expertly turned, and she came all the way out, bright-eyed and alert, and covered with “cheesy” vernix, a baby’s waterproofing lotion. Crying on cue, she was placed atop her mother for comforting and bonding skin-to-skin contact. She was born at 4:22 on July 1, about 6 hours or so after the first contraction. Pushing lasted only about 45 minutes. She was 6 lbs. 12 oz.

“Vivi, do you guys have a name for Baby yet?” I asked.

“Yes,” and looking over at Andrew, she told us. “It’s Adaline Barbara.” At this, Andrew’s mom burst into tears. She knew Barbara was named after her own mother who had died of cancer. Andrew and Vivi had wanted to do this as a memorial to a beloved family member for a long time, and this little baby, Andrew’s mom’s first grandbaby, was privileged to bear the name.

I could go on about postpartum things, but I’ll just summarize a few important items, or at least those important to me.

Andrew’s mom left Thursday morning. She had a shorter drive than I did and thought she could make it home okay after being up all night. I stayed at the hospital, spending Addy’s birthday helping her convalescing mother and taking a trip to Wal-Mart later to find a car seat, since those things expire so quickly. By Friday morning, Eric was missing me too much, and so was the business. He said my email was overflowing, so about 6:30, I hauled the car seat up the two flights of steps to get in a little exercise, and then I read Vivi and Andrew a psalm out of my Tree of Life version Bible – Psalm 139. Here it is, and I’ll stick my devotional comments in there, too:

1 For the music director: a psalm of David.

ADONAI, You searched me and know me.

2 Whenever I sit down or stand up, You know it. 

“He knows whether you’re propped up on pillows or trying to stand up, or asleep on the futon.”

You discern my thinking from afar.

“He doesn’t even have to be close to know everything we’re thinking.”

3 You observe my journeying and my resting 

“He knows how I traveled here, and He knows that I spent the night in the van!”

and You are familiar with all my ways.

4 Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, ADONAI, You know all about it.

“He isn’t wondering what we’re going to say. He knows even before the word is on the tip of our tongues!”

5 You hemmed me in behind and before, and laid Your hand upon me.

“This is like where you’re reading in Job, Vivi – Satan accused God of being overprotective of Job. David knew the same degree of protection. We have that, too!”

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

7 Where can I go from Your Ruach? Where can I flee from Your presence?

“Ruach – God’s Spirit. No, we can’t run away from God.”

8 If I go up to heaven, You are there, and if I make my bed in Sheol, look, You are there, too.

“The farthest extremes possible – He’s still with us.”

9 If I take the wings of the dawn and settle on the other side of the sea,

10 even there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me.

“The first person who saw and loved the baby picture I texted to our praying friends at 4:30 in the morning was a major’s wife, stationed with her family in Germany. God is with you here and with her there, too. Wherever we are, He is with us.”

11 If I say: “Surely darkness covers me, night keeps light at a distance from me,” 

12 even darkness is not dark for You, 

  and night is as bright as day – darkness and light are alike.

This is where I sang a Michael Card lullaby that I’ve always loved, and which Lisa and Emily danced to when they were in 4-H: “Even the Darkness is Light to Him.”

13 For You have created my conscience. You knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise You, for I am awesomely, wonderfully made! Wonderful are your works – and my soul knows that very well.

“And that goes for Addy, for Vivian, for me, and for Andrew. All of us are awesomely, wonderfully made by the hand of God Himself, and none of us are inferior to the others. God didn’t make any mistakes.”

15 My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

“God knew Addy before you did, while she was under construction.”

16 Your eyes saw me when I was unformed, 

“God saw Addy when there was nothing to see.”

and in Your book were written 

the days that were formed – when not one of them had come to be.

“And God knows Addy’s history -- before it even began.”

17 How precious are Your thoughts, O God! How great is the sum of them!

18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber

the grains of sand!

“Ah! So many of them – He’s thinking about us all the time!”

 …

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart. Examine me, and know my anxious thoughts,

“Do we have anxieties? What are we worried about? When Adonai knows so much about us and loves us and protects us, and thinks about us in His love and mercy all the time, we should be at perfect peace.”

24 And see if there be any offensive way within me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.

“He will lead us, and guide us. That we can be sure of.”

Then I prayed with them. What a privilege it was to me to be there! Andrew and Vivi were glad I had come and so very appreciative of what I had been able to do for them, but for me, it was just a beautifully awesome bonding time. There is nothing like attending the birth of your grandbaby! It wasn’t my first time, and possibly it won’t be my last, but it’s always always very special.