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Living the Days of Prophecy

History Points to Now

For some reason the man caught my eye as I strolled down the hallway past the rest rooms and telephones. It could have been his artwork displayed on the walls. Perhaps it was his jewelry, modestly peeking from the handcrafted box lined with felt. More likely than not, however, it was the three children that surrounded him. Having no children of my own, over the years I’ve gotten better at estimating the ages of those that belong to other people. The oldest with the man was nearly eight years old. Working toward the youngest, there was perhaps two years’ difference between one and the next. What beautiful children, I thought to myself as I passed their display in the lobby of the restaurant.

I had just finished a long-overdue meal with friends near a small seaside town north of San Francisco. Preparing to offer a workshop that would continue over the next three days, I knew that I had been a little distant at dinner. From my vantage point at one end of the table, the conversations seemed to be happening all around me. I had felt like an observer as the rest of the group quickly paired off in catch-up conversation regarding careers, romance, and future plans. I remember wondering if my choice of seating was intentional, my way of avoiding direct participation while still enjoying the presence of old friendships in intimate conversation. More than once I had found myself looking out of the tall plate-glass windows that stood between me and the tide rising under the pier. My mind was focused on the presentation that I would make the following evening. What words would I share in the opening? How would I invite an audience of mixed backgrounds and varied beliefs to follow me into an ancient message of life-affirming hope regarding our time in history?

“Hey, how is it going?” the man with the children and jewelry said as I walked toward him. The unexpected greeting of a stranger jolted me into the present. I smiled and nodded.

“Great,” I replied, without even thinking. “It looks like you have some good helpers,” I said, gesturing toward his three children. The man laughed, and as I stopped we quickly found ourselves in conversation about his jewelry, his wife’s artwork, and their four children.

“I was the midwife for each of my children,” he said. “I was the first eyes that they saw when they came into this world. My hands were the first hands that touched their bodies.” His eyes sparkled as he described how his family had grown. Within a matter of moments, this man whom I had never met before began describing the miracle of birth that he and his wife had experienced four times together. I was quickly moved by his trust and the sincerity of his voice as he shared intimate details of each birth.

“It’s easy to bring a baby into this world,” he said.

Easy for you to say, I thought to myself. What would your wife say if I were to ask her about having babies? Just as I had the thought, a woman appeared from down the hallway. Immediately I knew that she and the man were together. They were one of those couples that just look as though they are part of one another. She walked up to  us and smiled warmly as she slipped her arm around her husband. I would have passed her display down the hallway if I had not stopped to speak with her husband first. Knowing the answer to the question that I was about to ask, I spoke first.

“Are you the mother of these beautiful children?”

The pride in her eyes gave away her answer, even before the words left her mouth. “Yes, I am,” she replied. “I’m the mother to all five of them.” With the wide grin that comes from the privilege of sharing years with another person, she laughed and poked her husband in the arm. I caught on immediately. She was referring to him as the fifth child. She held in her arms the fourth and youngest, a small boy perhaps two years old. As he squirmed, his mother placed him feet-first on the tiled floor of the restaurant entryway. He stepped to his father, who picked him up in a single motion and cradled him in the crook of one arm. The young boy seated himself upright so he could look directly into his father’s eyes, and he remained that way for the rest of our conversation. It was obviously something that they had done many times before.

“So, it is easy to have a child?” I said, as a reminder of where we had left our conversation before the man’s wife had appeared.

“Usually,” he replied. “When they are ready, there is not much stopping them. They just shoot right out!” With his youngest son still in his arms, the man stooped a little to mimic an athlete catching a ball, or a baby in his arms.

We all laughed as he and his wife looked at each other. Then an air of stillness came over the couple as well as their children. Now and then someone crosses our path in precisely the right moment, with precisely the right words to jolt our memories and awaken possibilities that lie sleeping within each of us. I believe that, on unspoken levels, we work together in this way. In the innocence of the unexpected, a magical moment unfolds. I knew that this was one of those moments. The man looked directly at me. The expression on his face and the feeling in my heart told me that whatever was about to happen was the reason we were together in that moment.

“Usually there are no problems,” the man continued. “Once in a while, though, something happens. Something goes wrong.”

Looking at the young boy in his arms, the man drew the child even closer as he reached up and brushed the hair off the boy’s forehead with his hand. For an instant the two gazed into each other’s eyes. I was honored by their ability to share their love without making me feel like an observer. They were allowing me to participate in their moment.

“It happened with this one,” the man continued. “We had some problems with Josh.” I listened carefully as he continued. “Everything was going fine, just the way it should. My wife’s water had broken and her labor had progressed to the point where we found ourselves having our fourth home birth. Josh was in the birth canal when suddenly everything stopped. He just stopped coming. I knew that something was wrong. For some reason I thought back to a police operations manual that I had read years earlier. There was a chapter on emergency births, with one section dedicated to possible complications. My mind raced to that section. Isn’t it funny how just the right things seem to come to our minds at just the right moment?” He laughed a nervous laugh as his wife stepped closer. Placing her arm around her husband and her youngest child, I knew that they were sharing an experience that had brought the three of them together through a rare bond of intimacy and wonder.

“The manual said that every once in a while during birth, the baby may become lodged against the mother’s tailbone. Sometimes it’s the head, sometimes the shoulder, that gets wedged. It’s a relatively simple procedure to reach inside and free the child. This is just what I believed was happening to Josh.

“I reached inside my wife, and the most amazing thing happened. I found her tailbone, moved my hand upward a little bit, and sure enough, I felt Josh’s shoulder blade, lodged up against the bone. Just as I was about to shift him myself, I felt a movement. It took a moment for me to realize what was happening. It was Josh’s hand. He was reaching up toward his mother’s tailbone to free himself! As his arm brushed my hand, I was given an experience that I believe very few fathers have ever had.” By this time, we were all in tears.

“The story isn’t over yet,” the man’s wife said softly. “Go ahead, tell the rest,” she whispered encouragingly to her husband.

“I’m getting to that part.” He grinned as he wiped his eyes with his hands. “As his arm brushed my hand, Josh stopped moving, just for a couple of seconds. I believe he was trying to understand what he had found. Then I felt him again. This time he was not reaching up to free himself from his mother’s tailbone. This time he was reaching for me! I felt his tiny hand move across my fingers. His touch was uncertain at first, as if he were exploring. In just a matter of seconds there was a strength in his grip. I felt my unborn son reach out and wrap his fingers around mine confidently, as if he knew me! In that moment I knew that Josh would be okay. Together, the three of us worked to bring Josh into this world, and here he is today.” We all looked at the little boy in his father’s arms. Noticing all eyes on him, Josh nestled his face into his father’s shoulder.

“He’s still a little shy,” the man said with a laugh.

“I can see why he’s so drawn to you,” I said. “You two have quitea history together.”