The day started with a text.  Filled with delivery stats that I did not understand, I, like any 25 year old who doesn’t know what’s going on, called my mom for clarifications. Assuring me that no, the baby was probably, definitely not coming today, she made me feel much better about having to work until midnight.

But then the phone calls started coming around 5 pm: This might be happening followed by You might want to come to Waco sooner than later and then finally, Okay, THIS IS HAPPENING. Rushing home on my break to throw things in a bag, I called my friend, David. We had joked for months about how our brother and sister being married to one another would go to a whole new level of weird when we finally shared a baby through them. Well, the weirdness was about to get real. 

And so I went back to work and tapped my toe for a few more hours, hoping that Baby R would hold off just a little longer. I wanted the delivery to be swift and safe for both Sarah and the baby, but I also wanted to be there to see Matt walk through the delivery double doors. I had to see his face in that moment. 

It was 11:30 when I finally turned south on 35. There’s no telling how many times, how many hours I’ve driven that stretch of highway, but never before with such a purpose. The road may have been covered by the night, but up above, the sky displayed a magnificent lightning storm. As flashes of brilliant light cracked the black canvas in front of me, what kept coming back to me were the words strong and mighty. Those were the exact words that I had prayed with for the last eight months – that God would make this baby strong and mighty, a man after His heart, a man who takes after his daddy and his daddy’s God. And here God was, displaying His might and strength, lighting my path to him.

With these kinds of events, you feel like every moment that you’re not there is precious – you hurry up and get there so that you can sit and wait. And making it to the hospital a little after 1 am, wait we did.

I remember the first time I was in the wedding of a dear friend. The holiness and weight of what was happening in those moments – of two people making a covenant with God and one another, of the absolute love and joy in the room – it’s like all the world stopped and tilted into that place and time. And that’s what it felt like all night long and into the morning. We counted the hours, checked for text message updates and waited and waited as our worlds hushed and continued to tilt.

We made conversation like it was any other day, we told stories and we mentioned those that we love and miss and how they would have reacted to this birth day. We played games and shared snacks, prayed silent prayers and took turns pacing the empty waiting room. Then, a little after 10 am, we got the text that he was here. Grayson Matthew was here.

We all cheered, so proud of Sarah and relieved that her work and our wait were over. Not long after, Matt appeared from behind the double doors, calm and armed with the very first details of a small, dark-haired, 8 pound boy. Making our way to the nursery, my heart started to thud in heavy beats – after so long, it was hard to believe we were seconds from seeing someone we didn’t know, but were already deeply attached to.

And then, there he was:  long with a head covered with dark hair. Quiet and calm, with open eyes and stretched-out hands. A nurse picked him up and we all gasped as we got our first real view – and all I could do was stare. So this is you, I thought. For so long, he was just an idea, then a dream, then a prayer, but now – now, he was here.

These sacred moments – two becoming one, a life being called out into the world – those moments stop everything else and tilt our worlds towards one another and into God. The holiness of those moments, divinely designed by our Creator, stun you and pull you close to Him. His greatness and goodness are inescapable.

Sometimes, I look around at the people in my life, the ones whose paths seem inextricably and forever intertwined with mine and I feel honored to have been placed with them on the earth. All the things they teach me, the ways they love me and just their willingness to share their time – it’s a gift and an honor to be with them. And I feel that same weight of glory and gift as I think about the chance to watch my brother step into fatherhood and the ability to learn from the ways that Sarah loves her baby boy. I look forward to years of watching Grayson develop into the boy and man he was created to be and all the ways his momma and daddy will come out in how he moves and talks and thinks.  

There have been many moments over the course of the past year when I’ve questioned why I’m here in Fort Worth. We all know by now, this was not my plan. But if for no other reason than to drive to Waco and meet my nephew, to be able to hold him and feel his tiny, newborn heart beat against my own and to look my brother and sister-in-law in the face on the day that their worlds shifted, this wait has been a gift.  

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:13-16