I experienced childbirth 5 times, and each time was memorable. One of
the strangest scenes, though, occurred while laboring to bring baby #3,
Amy Hope, into the world. The doctor decided it was time before Amy
did, so he medically induced labor. With that powerful drug dripping
into my veins, the contractions were coming hard and fast. And then the
strangest thing happened: the IV bag emptied, and the pains completely
stopped. I mean, I was lying on the delivery table, fully dilated and
ready for the final push, when I suddenly felt absolutely no pain at
all. My kind Japanese doctor actually allowed me a few minutes of
blissful pain-free rest, chatting with me about this and that. Then, he
looked at the clock and said, "Are you ready? It's time!" I thought,
"Are you kidding?!" Really? -- WHO in their right mind would CHOOSE to
resume the pain? It was inevitable, though, and sure enough, as soon as
that evil liquid began dripping again, I was wracked with excruciating
pain. A few minutes later, it was over and my beautiful baby girl was in
my arms!
This week, I was recalling that surreal memory
as I walked through Amy's graduation from Christian Academy in Japan. On
Friday, she walked across the stage, moved her tassle, tossed her cap,
and received numerous awards. On Monday, we will be packing up her room
in preparation for her heading to another continent to begin college and
whatever life holds for her beyond. A couple of days before
commencement, I heard that OB-Gyn's voice in my head: "Are you ready?
It's time!" And, just like on that afternoon 18 years ago, 1 month, and
24 days ago, I wanted to scream "No!"
A wise pastor once
told me something that I have relied upon as I've watched 3 of my
children leave the nest. A baby is in a mother's womb for 9 months, give
or take. For that set period of time, it is the safest, most efficient
place for growth and development. However, if baby stays much longer
than 9 months, its growth is stunted and things start to go wrong.
Mother and baby both grow increasingly uncomfortable and... well, it's
just TIME! Similarly, a child grows safely and efficiently in our home
for 18 years, give or take. But, if the time stretches much longer than
that, growth is stunted, and the child ceases to thrive. She's grown as
much as she can in this environment, and it's time to let her go.
I
can't believe the ways she's grown! This baby was the one with the
worst case of separation anxiety! She would NOT stay in a church nursery
without me! She has now traveled to 3 continents and volunteered for
every adventure and ministry opportunity afforded her. This was my
sickliest child, hospitalized repeatedly for asthma, psneumonia, and
other respiratory conditions. She is now 5'8", a beautiful picture of
glowing health and youth, loves voleyball and runs a fairly fast mile.
This child was so stricken with shyness that she once ended up running
to the church restroom and BAWLING through an entire worship hour
because she choked on a solo. This Spring, I watched as she organized
and produced a charity concert for tsunami survivors, marveling at her
poise as she sang not one but several original songs for her audience.
(She received an award for that one at graduation, by the way!)
Her
daddy and I were delighted to see her give her heart to Jesus as a
child. He baptized her in a Tokyo church on Easter Sunday when she was
8. We've rejoiced to watch as her faith has blossomed into an authentic
relationship with Jesus. We've answered as many questions as we could,
and been stumped and stunned by the honesty and increasing difficulty of
her mind's musings. On graduation night, we shed a few thankful tears
as the Bible department blessed her with a scholarship for her
"understanding and application of Scripture to daily life."
"I
know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord." All of the sickness,
separation anxiety, and shyness have been used to shape Amy into a
compassionate and caring friend. God seems to have gifted her with both
empathy and the ability to encourage others. She's had more
opportunities to use that gift than many her age. High school has
brought the death of our next-door neighbor and 2 classmates (car
accident, brain aneuryism, and motorcycle wreck). Amy was the little
girl who hyperventilated, vomited, and almost passed out at her
grandma's funeral. But last year, she was able to help her friend who
was eye-witness to a suicide. She has worked near-magic in calming down
her little sister many times when I have run out of ideas. She has been a
camp counselor, a middle school mentor, and an accountability partner
to younger students. Oh, and then there was that earthquake, tsunami,
and nuclear disaster. She's made 3 trips to the disaster area, playing
with kindergarteners, doing "mud-outs" at damaged homes, restoring
damaged photographs, passing out water...
My curly-headed
little Shirley Temple look-alike has grown into a lovely young woman. To
try to hold on to her at this point would be both detrimental and
ridiculous. It is time for my Amy Hope to step into the next phase of
her life. It hurts my heart, I won't lie. I will miss her like crazy.
But I am confident that God has plans to prosper her and to give her a
future and a hope! I take a deep breath, and I am ready. It's time!
