My Times Are In Your Hand...

Welcome to Vermont, land of Subarus and sandals. I’m pretty sure that when you go to get your Driver’s License as a new resident of “The Green Mountain State”. You have to give them your old car and they give you a new Subaru, a pair of sandals and a pair of socks with blue, gray and beige stripes (they go with everything). After that, if you’re male, you have to grow a pony tail and if you’re female you have to let your hair grow really long and promise never to color it again.

I used to think that all the hippies I grew up with were eventually absorbed into society and became ‘normal’ functioning members of our culture. But now I realize many of them escaped and moved to Vermont. It was a brilliant move on their behalf. Who would ever have thought to look for them here? There’s nothing up here but trees and left-wing liberals.

We were at a coffee shop yesterday that was operated by some kind of neo-Christian cult that dispensed newsletters with titles like ‘Jesus! Really Good Guy or Cultural Radical’? The whole staff was made up of really long haired women and guys who were wearing tie dye t-shirts, all of them sporting those big, clunky sandals with socks.

They also had a shop that sold clothing. Lots of linen shirts and dresses, the ubiquitous tie dyes, brown and green prints and little funny clips at the end of leather lanyards or feathered chains (Hmmmm. What could they be for?) The shop calls itself ‘Welcome Home Again’ which is an Indian name that means “Get Your Official Vermont Uniforms Here”.

The mountains are beautiful and the foliage is near peak here. Not really a lot of colors as they have had a dry summer like ours. It is significantly cooler here but I’m trying to imagine that it’s just early Spring so that I won’t have to deal with my issues about Fall and Winter.

Kelly and I are staying with Ruth and Todd having made a small encampment in their apartment. For a relatively small place, they have made a very comfortable living space. It’s great to be able to spend some time with them. They’re both so excited but somewhat exhausted by ‘any moment’ stretching out into a week or so beyond the originally forecast due date. Let it suffice that predicting a baby’s delivery date is not yet an exact science.

Last week, before we left Warrenton, I had a debilitating episode due to a chronic back problem. It rises up from time to time. Usually, all I have to do is lie flat for an evening or two and it goes away. This time I struggled to get out of bed and, once up, could hardly walk. We decided to go to the Emergency Ward. When we got there, it was empty. The whole staff was buzzing about how slow things were for a Friday night/Saturday morning. After a shot of Demerol and prescriptions for steroids, muscle relaxers and pain killers were able to shuffle us through, in near record time (2 hours). I think the whole episode occurred just to show us that God is watching over us and is in charge over everything including the Emergency Ward.

The meds made me pretty loopy and unable to concentrate, “Hey, Kelly! Have you……uhhhhh…..did you ever mmmmmm….never mind.” I was scheduled to speak at Hope Christian Fellowship on Sunday and I wasn’t sure I would be able to, “Today we’ll be looking at……..I want to speak on…….Hey! Has anybody heard the new Bruce Springsteen album?” I went easy on the meds Saturday evening and decided to trust in God. He saw me through and everything went well according to my harshest critic and most valued commentator, my wife.

We got the call from Ruth right after the Late Service at WBF (I was at home, back on the meds). Kelly drove us up to Vermont. I must have slept most of the way. About half way up, past Allentown, Ruth called to say it was false labor. That took a lot of the pressure off for us to get there on time.

Now, my back is almost completely better and we are waiting for Ruth's real labor to begin. Kelly and I have had a few interesting discussions about what it’s like for the father to be waiting for the delivery compared to the mother. Obviously, the mother is very involved. Meanwhile, the father can be supportive and kind, but remains pretty much an observer of the events as they unfold. That’s how Kelly feels about Ruth’s delivery. In a funny way, it brings us closer not only as a shared experience for this moment but as a clearer understanding of what it was like for me waiting for Ruth and Jason to be born.

For now, we wait. We enjoy the company of Ruth and Todd and then we wait some more. We deeply appreciate all the emails of support, encouragement and prayer. We praise God for His perfect plan and His perfect timing knowing that all things are subject to His will and not ours. We pray as David did in Psalm 31 ‘But as for me, I trust in You, O Lord, I say, “You are my God.” My times are in Your hand…..’