After Caden came home from the hospital with a feeding tube, we had
to use a stethoscope to "check placement" of the tube, to make sure it
was in the stomach before putting medications and food through it. After
noticing (from a blog post of course) that we were using the
fantabulous yellow plastic stethoscope they gave us at the hospital, a
sweet nurse friend of ours offered to let us use her own stethoscope.
Caden, praise the Lord, doesn't have his feeding tube any more; but
sometimes I still like to use the stethoscope just to listen to his
heart.
I wont pretend to know exactly what I'm hearing, but as I listen to the gentle thump-thump-thump of his miraculous little heartbeat, I am filled with awe. I can scarcely imagine that the surgeon's hands could be steady enough to make that heart beat, to swap teeny-tiny little arteries and stitch up teeny-tiny little holes. And even more than that, I am flooded with a sense of wonder at a God who carefully knit together my son's bitty little heart. He made no mistakes. Not even in the murmur, the abnormal cadence of his special heart.
It's harder to hear his heart beat, to recognize his murmur, than
I thought it would be. I have to send Jayci out of the room. Wait until
Caden stops flailing his little arms and screeching his sweet
baby sounds. I have to focus. To breathe deeply and listen closely. And
only then can I hear it: Lub-dub with swishing and regurgitation, almost
musical. Again, I don't describe it accurately or medically. I only
know that I can hear my son's heart. And it is miraculous.
I gently lay my fingers over his raised scar; touch his sternum, bumpy and bound together with wire. I can feel his heart trilling lightly, and I listen at the same time: thump-thump-thump-thump.
It's the same way with the Lord, I think. I have to listen so closely to hear His heartbeat. Tune out the distractions, focus my gaze, still my own heart. I have to put my head to His chest, breathe softly, and listen. Thump-thump-thump. There it is I think, as I sneak a cookie from our wrapped plate to give it to a homeless man on the street corner.
Again I hear it as I watch Jayci dance around excitedly, offering all the kiddos hot chocolate and making sure they all got marshmellows. Thump-thump-thump, I hear it when we hand a jar of caramel and homemade cookies to the drug dealer on the corner and hug him merry christmas, no strings attached.
As hustle and bustle surround us, particularly during the holiday season, it can be hard to hear it. But, rest assured, it's still there. His heart still beats for His children, and if you listen closely you will hear it. Thump-thump-thump. In unexpected places you'll hear it. His heart beats for the least of these, for the forgotten, the lonely.
I
watch fourteen and fifteen year old mamas in our neighborhood: babies
holding babies, and I think I hear the Lord's heart faintly thumping,
with promise and hope despite pain or perhaps because of it. I imagine
another teenage mommy, over 2000 years ago. Her heart racing as she
cradled her beautiful baby, counting his tiny toes and exclaiming to
Joseph over his little fingers. I wonder at the pain she must have felt,
knowing she held the Saviour, and knowing she would have to give up her
son.
I recognize my own pain mingled with joy as I imagine how she must have felt. I understand intimately this year how her heart must have ached, and yet been flooded with a certain peace. How she had to rest in the Lord's mighty arms, secure in her status as highly-favored and deeply loved. How she gently wrapped her Creator in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger to watch him slumber, the Lord's heartbeat loud in her ears.
The shepherds heard it beating, surrounded by a brilliant angel chorus. The sheep and goats heard it coming from their food trough, tiny coos from a bitty baby. And when I wonder how in the world can our little tiny light reach such a dark neighborhood, I remember that the Wise Men followed a single star that led them to the Savior.
Thump-thump-thump, His heart beats for each of us. For His children. For His son, sent to save the world. For our kiddos, for all those who wont have presents under their tree or a family to hug them tightly this Christmas. For the tantrum-throwing toddlers and the less-than-patient mothers. And for my son, I hear His heart beating loudly. I hear His heart matching Caden's own special heartbeat in a beautiful chorus that proclaims that God is good and the Savior is come.
I wont pretend to know exactly what I'm hearing, but as I listen to the gentle thump-thump-thump of his miraculous little heartbeat, I am filled with awe. I can scarcely imagine that the surgeon's hands could be steady enough to make that heart beat, to swap teeny-tiny little arteries and stitch up teeny-tiny little holes. And even more than that, I am flooded with a sense of wonder at a God who carefully knit together my son's bitty little heart. He made no mistakes. Not even in the murmur, the abnormal cadence of his special heart.
I gently lay my fingers over his raised scar; touch his sternum, bumpy and bound together with wire. I can feel his heart trilling lightly, and I listen at the same time: thump-thump-thump-thump.
It's the same way with the Lord, I think. I have to listen so closely to hear His heartbeat. Tune out the distractions, focus my gaze, still my own heart. I have to put my head to His chest, breathe softly, and listen. Thump-thump-thump. There it is I think, as I sneak a cookie from our wrapped plate to give it to a homeless man on the street corner.
Again I hear it as I watch Jayci dance around excitedly, offering all the kiddos hot chocolate and making sure they all got marshmellows. Thump-thump-thump, I hear it when we hand a jar of caramel and homemade cookies to the drug dealer on the corner and hug him merry christmas, no strings attached.
As hustle and bustle surround us, particularly during the holiday season, it can be hard to hear it. But, rest assured, it's still there. His heart still beats for His children, and if you listen closely you will hear it. Thump-thump-thump. In unexpected places you'll hear it. His heart beats for the least of these, for the forgotten, the lonely.
I recognize my own pain mingled with joy as I imagine how she must have felt. I understand intimately this year how her heart must have ached, and yet been flooded with a certain peace. How she had to rest in the Lord's mighty arms, secure in her status as highly-favored and deeply loved. How she gently wrapped her Creator in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger to watch him slumber, the Lord's heartbeat loud in her ears.
The shepherds heard it beating, surrounded by a brilliant angel chorus. The sheep and goats heard it coming from their food trough, tiny coos from a bitty baby. And when I wonder how in the world can our little tiny light reach such a dark neighborhood, I remember that the Wise Men followed a single star that led them to the Savior.
Thump-thump-thump, His heart beats for each of us. For His children. For His son, sent to save the world. For our kiddos, for all those who wont have presents under their tree or a family to hug them tightly this Christmas. For the tantrum-throwing toddlers and the less-than-patient mothers. And for my son, I hear His heart beating loudly. I hear His heart matching Caden's own special heartbeat in a beautiful chorus that proclaims that God is good and the Savior is come.