A Promise Fulfilled

A Few Thoughts on the Birth of My Daughter

Two weeks ago I wrote in my church newsletter (copied below) about how much I could relate to people in Scripture like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob who had to wait- wait a Long Time- for the birth of the child God had promised each of them. It’s so interesting to read Scripture through the lens of your own experiences that are similar to the events we read about in the Bible. While I wrote two weeks ago about how well I could relate to the idea of waiting (impatiently) for God’s promises, I write now as a man who knows the joy of a promise fulfilled. At 7:07 PM on May 3, I witnessed the love of my life bring the 9.1 lb, 20” love of our lives into this world. I’ve never seen true perfection before. I thought I had, but really what I saw was technical perfection; like a mint-condition baseball card or a perfectly new cell phone screen- you know, before it spends a lifetime in your pocket and get scratched beyond the point where you can actually read the screen. What I knew as perfection was really just the lack of blemish. Charlotte Madison was perfect from the very second she was born- not just in a “I have 10 toes and 10 fingers and a perfect rose-colored skin” kind of way- not just in a “I’m perfectly healthy and normal” kind of way. Hers was a created perfection- only achievable by the careful molding and shaping of the One Who created our universe. As the doctors worked diligently to heal Margaret, the only words that could come out of my mouth were “She’s perfect!” I paced back and forth between Mom and baby for the first 30 minutes of Charlotte’s life. I looked at Charlotte and made mental notes about everything I would tell Margaret. But by the time I got back to Margaret, the only thing I could say every time was “She’s perfect!” It was truly one of the most amazing- and deeply spiritual- moments of my life.

A year ago at about this time, Margaret and I got on I-70 near Manhattan, KS to begin the long drive to Texas to begin a new chapter of our lives and ministries together in Kingwood. Who was singing on the radio? None other than Israel Kamakawiwo Ole singing the famous ukulele version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World.” Given our departure from Kansas, we found the song to be a particularly appropriate expression of our feelings about our new adventure. When we heard it 3 more times that day on various radio stations on the way to Texas, we figured Someone wanted us to hear a message of hope, rather and a sense of fear about the unknown. So when we got in the car to leave the hospital with Charlotte Madison for the first time, what song was on the radio? Naturally, the sweet sound of a ukulele and Israel singing “I hear babies cry and I watch them grow, they’ll learn much more than we’ll know, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”

I learned to drive in 1997 on a ’91 Mazda Miata, a ’66 Volkswagen Bug, and a ’95 Dodge Caravan. Two of those cars are standard transmissions, so I learned to drive with one hand on the stick, and one on the steering wheel. Only once in my entire life have I driven with two hands on the wheel: during my driving test to get my driver’s license in 1997. Until Wednesday afternoon. On the way home from the hospital in Tomball (Methodist- Willowbrook), I drove with my hands at 10 and 2 so that I could maneuver around whatever obstacle had the nerve to cross our path. I could have out-maneuvered Jeff Gordon in the name of protecting the newest addition to our family. Even more, as Margaret, Charlotte Madison, and I came home as a family for the first time, I drove with the cruise control set so that both feet were poised to come crashing down on the brake in an instant with the full force of my entire body if anything or anyone made the mistake of impeding our progress. It’s amazing how not even the mundane things in life (i.e. driving) are left untouched by the birth of our first daughter.

Peace,
Matt