7 7 7

I am 7 1/2 months pregnant, with about 7 weeks til my due date, which happens to be May 7th! The one thing that still hangs over us in terms of preparation for the birth of Bruno, is that we really don't want his name to end up being Bruno! The naming game has proved to be more of a challenge than one might think. Last evening we were attempting to narrow it down to a list of names we both actually somewhat like... so we'll at least have something to work with, and potentially bring to the hospital, so we can try to match the right name with the face we have yet to see. I was praying about it one morning this week, and the scripture came to mind, "See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah 49:16). I thought about how God already knows our son, and has been knitting his tiny body and soul together since conception. From the beginning of time He has known his name, and we pray that it is already written on His hands. That was a comforting thought-- that I could cease my anxiety and trust that God can reveal it to us however He wants, in His perfect timing.
So part way through our discussion of names last night, dave fell asleep. "Great, it's settled, then," I said outloud in between his snores, "His name will be _____" (insert the name I like, but he doesn't). :)
Eventually I fell asleep too, and dreamed that I was driving up a steep hill that had a torrent of water rushing across it. I was determined to make it to the top of this hill, and drove straight into the torrent. The car kept swerving to one side of the road and then the other, depending on which way the current was heaviest. All I remember was gripping the wheel and praying fervently that God would help us get through it. It was very scary and very treacherous. When we finally did get through it, I got out and lay face down, hugging the dry ground and thanking Him profusely. The dream from that point on is fuzzy to me now, but it involved some kind of war, and other turmoil. There was an anonymous hero in the dream who helped to rescue us out of the entire thing. Toward the end I asked him his name. It was a name we hadn't ever considered, but in the dream I told him that I would name our child after him. There was even a middle name to go with it.
I woke up and didn't think too deeply about it, other than how interesting it was to have a name suddenly "appear" like that, out of nowhere. I heard once that when you dream about being in a vehicle, the vehicle often represents your life/calling/occupation, etc... (often in my life this has made sense, like the time I dreamed that I had to get somewhere to speak at a conference and the plane kept going to the wrong place, getting delayed, etc...revealing my fears about job performance...)
As I think about my dream from last night, I am struck by how similar this season of faith has been to that torrent of water. I have been struggling the past few years with being tossed side to side with questions, doubts, fears, and other various struggles. It hasn't been my own doing that has gotten me through-- rather the faithfulness of God to meet me in the midst of it, and promise me that there will be an end, where I look back and realize that it has been His keeping me and carrying me all along. Dry ground is on its way.
So I get up and out the door this morning, and the first song we sang in church was "Arise, my soul, Arise"... which of course contains a line that says "my name is written on His hands" !!! (very cool)...
The second song, "Jesus, Thank You", had the line, "once your enemy, now seated at your table...." As we sang it, I had this picture of a beautiful banquet table, and me sitting at it refsuing to eat, pouting, and totally being ungrateful. How could someone so loved and provided for be so self-focussed and consumed with anything other than joy? Especially someone who's been adopted into the most loving and beautiful family of all-- the very family of God, who has not only pardoned me from every sinful thought and deed, but lavishes me with unconditional, gentle, perfect fatherly love! It was very convicting....
Then the sermon [click HERE to listen] was on God's incredible love for us as His children! (I have been longing to hear this kind of message for a LONG time...)
Then we closed with the song we sang at first-- and I found myself unable to sing, only sway. Swaying during worship is something that I find is often an unconscious act. I've always wondered what it is exactly that makes people sway when they focus on God. I find that even when I can't focus, enter in, or even find the desire to worship through singing, I still sway. Well, the last verse of "Arise.." says:
"My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear
He owns me for His child;
I can no longer fear
With confidence I now draw nigh
With confidence I
now draw nigh
And Father, Abba Father, cry!"
Suddenly this picture popped into my mind of God the Father holding me, like a Daddy... and He was swaying. It was as if He was whispering in my ear (as I put my head on His big, loving shoulder), "You sway because I am swaying you...in my arms... no matter how you feel, no matter how you see me or don't see me, whether you 'enter in' or not, you sway because I am holding you close; just like you will hold your baby close, whether he is crying, sleeping, or cooing happily-- he will sway because you will be swaying him."
It was closer than I've felt, to God, in a long time. It was pure intimacy. It was like dry ground.