Waiting

I have many great traits.

I’d get tired if I wrote them all, but these are my favourite:

My spontaneity and creativity, throwing myself into the new and different, 

desperate for another crazy adventure.

My ridiculous organising skills, 

planning incredible and detailed events at the drop of a hat.

Combined, I’m a fireball of life and activity.

I’m also the least patient person I know.

My ever-increasing belly, shovelling sweets like the Oompa Loompas my husband so affectionately likened me to, weighed heavy on my frame, making me desperate for escape.

Desperate to end the nine months of puking

Of being restricted in my own skin

Of reluctantly slowing down my pace

 The messages piled in:

“Happy Due Date!!!! Any twinges ....???”

“no sign yet?! booooo xx”

Due day came and went…

“Where are these babies??????”

“Dear baby miller,

I am writing to officially give you an eviction notice. Please vacate your mothers womb by 12am this evening before the overdue cranky woman hormones go crazy ;) “

Everyday waiting for something…but yet nothing came, not even a hint…

“You not blown yet? Milking this whole pregnancy thing abit too much aren't you?”

“Ok, I'm done being patient for you!!! Go jogging or climb some stairs ... or ... OTHER things ... and get that baby moving! “

You were “done”?!

I was done.

Overdone.

Completely spent and exhausted from being patient.

Dogs and cats wait 60 days.

Rabbits wait 33 days.

Mice only wait 20 days.

Humans?

271 days.

Why forced to have so many bloated days?

What reason is there behind this torture?!

Texts of encouragement came in, but none spoke more strongly than this:

“These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance.

That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother.

We are enlarged in the waiting.

We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us.

But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, 

God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along.

 He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning.”

{Romans 8}

We wait

For that spouse that never comes

For that job promotion they say is just around the corner

For the day we will earn more

For that relationship to be fixed

For the house of our own

The morning the contractions started

Painfully waking me at 5am

Faithfully pulsing every 20 minutes

Five hours later

As my mum arrived panicked and scared of missing the birth

They remained still 20 minutes apart

My pudgy self bounced frustratingly on the exercise ball

Netflix choices blurred into mundane viewing

My time had come

Labour was imminent

But yet Father God was still calling me

In a place of patience

We wait

For the marriage proposal

For the big break into the industry

For the manager to appreciate our efforts

For the fertility treatment to work

For acceptance on a course

For healing

The sickness came back.

My “friend” vomit that had consumed each week of my pregnancy

Overwhelming took over my labour

Contractions ranged from 1 to 7 minute gaps

Each painfully convulsing my body

A disjointed 10pm walk to the hospital

A delusional time on gas & air

A two hour grueling stint in water

And there she was.

The words of the friend rang in my ear:

“Labour doesn’t matter once it’s stopped.”

Those things are coming.

Those dreams deep in our beings, with heartbeats and kicks and pains

Have life within them

They are cooking, developing, growing.

It may not be happening to you as quick as the dog

Or the cat

Or the mouse

As quick as your sister

Your friend

Everyone else

But it’s coming.

It was relayed to me, that I spoke these words to my precious Zella, 

as her wrinkled grey body lay wetly on my exhausted chest:

“I did this for you. I did this all for you.”

All the waiting

The agony

The stretching

The pushing

My reward, my prize, the end

Was truly worthy of the waiting

My heart has softened

My soul has learnt patience

My character has developed

Truly, I was enlarged in the waiting

Jemi

My cousin’s baby has finally arrived with the name:

Oluwajemi

Called “Jemi” for short, her Nigerian name means ‘God has answered me’.

And the truth is, He has.

For Femi and Jordelle, as with any other parent, all you desire is for your child to be healthy. They didn’t care whether it was a girl or a boy, they just wanted “it” to be well.

God answered that. 

And that's a huge thing. 

But Father God answers the small things as well. 

I remember the phone conversation with Jordelle in early December last year. With her first sentence she told me that she was pregnant. 

With her second sentence, she asked Steve and I to be god-parents. 

Knowing our always tight and hectic summer schedule, and with the baby's due date right at the end of the week we planned to be in England, we prayed that Father would have her born on time and we'd get to see her. 

Halfway through our week in England, and four days earlier than expected, we got news that Jordelle had gone into labour. 

A painful and agonizing 24 hours later (for which I have an increases amount of respect for my new heroes - all mothers who endure labour), Jemi was born. 

God answered our prayer. 

It was small, it was selfish, but God answered it anyway, giving us four days to spend with our beautiful god-daughter before we left.

He answered the huge. He answers the small. 

And then there's the random. 

In 2 King 6, a group of prophets led by Elisha, are cutting down trees, when one of their axes falls into the water. 

Axe gone right?

Elisha, probably uttering a silent prayer, instructs one of the men (also most likely uttering a silent prayer) to show him where the axe fell into the water, then throws a stick which makes the iron axe float to the surface. 

God answered their prayer. 

Father God deeply cares about the huge, small and random asks we have. 

The school paper. The ill relative. The football game. The work conference. The household budget. The mourning family. The new relationship. The bullied child. 

Let us not be as abusive and flippant to treat Him like a ethereal vending machine, who chugs out a delightful treat in return for a rusty coin of hurried meaningless words. 

But let's not be too scared to open our hearts to converse with Father God of the universe, who despite the awesome role of being in charge of all creation, answers our prayers. 

What will you ask Him for today??

Jordelle and Femi's words back to Father are revealed in the meaning of Jemi's middle name 'Feyishara'?

"Take this as yours."