When the ground beneath my feet gives way
And I hear the sound of crashing waves
All my world is washing out to sea
I'm hidden safe in the God who never moves
Holding fast to the promise of Your truth
You are holding tighter still to me
We drove to the hospital. I called the OB on-call and then my parents. "My water broke. Pray for the baby, " I told my parents. I texted Laura, "My water broke." Prayers began being lifted up on our behalf.
When we arrived at the hospital, they sent us straight to labor and delivery. We sat in the lobby filling out paperwork while the nurses took their time finding me a room. "I'm 17 weeks and my water just broke!" I stammered. "You need to fill out all your information first," they said. I couldn't handle this. It was like the grand finale of a horrible month of hospital visits.
We finally made it to a room, and as I stood up from the wheelchair, blood was flowing around me. The two nurses took one look at me and then at each other...and sprang into action. The one nurse tried to find the baby's heartbeat. All she heard was mine.
I was finally able to get an epidural, and the pain went away. As soon as the nurse settled me into my blankets, I felt something. I told the nurse. She checked, and then said in a nervous voice, "I'll go get the doctor."
The doctor looked at me and said, "The baby's been delivered."
Right then, in the quiet, dim hospital room, my lifeless baby was born. No one can prepare you for that moment. No crying baby. No shouts of, "Congratulations! It's a boy!" No tears of happiness. No sighs of, "Whew! We did it!" No exchanging smiles of joy. Nothing.
Oh, the Rock won't move and His word is strong
The Rock won't move and His love can't be undone
Oh, the Rock won't move and His word is strong
The Rock won't move and His love can't be undone
The Rock of our Salvation
After a few minutes, I asked the nurse if they could tell if it was a boy or a girl. A boy. She asked if we wanted to see him. I shook my head yes. She showed me my baby. So perfect. Little fingers. Little toes. Little nose. Little mouth. No wonder God wanted this baby for His very own. He was perfect.
I laid there in the quiet room, but a raging flood of pounding waves was flowing over me. My son, though, never felt the sting of sin. Never felt pain or cried tears of sadness. He never experienced even one breath in this fallen world. All he had ever known was safety. Safety in my womb. And now safety in the arms of Jesus.
My hope is in the promise of Your blood
My support within the raging flood
Even in the tempest, I can sing
I'm hidden safe in the God who never moves
Holding fast to the promise of Your truth
That You are holding tighter still to me
Whoa, whoa, whoa
The Rock of our salvation
Chayton Philip Huston. Gene and I looked at each other. For two people who usually take a full 40 weeks to determine a name for the baby, that night we decided together within minutes. Chayton was a name that had been on our list for previous pregnancies. Philip was my grandfather's name, and the middle name I had wanted if we had a boy. "Chayton Philip," I whispered to Gene. He shook his head in agreement. It was perfect.
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
The Rock won't move, the Rock won't move
And when darkness seems to hide His face
I rest in His unchanging grace.
The Rock won't move, no, the Rock won't move
{The Rock Won't Move by Vertical Church Band...a song that's been playing on repeat for the past month. Sometimes you just need to keep singing a song that speaks such clear truth to your heart. And it's even sweeter when you catch your kids singing it, too.}
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