The Shadow She Casts

It is hard to believe, but next Monday our baby Charlotte will be two months old. It seems like just the other day that my wife and I were talking to her while she was in the womb. She would move and kick in response to our questions and comments. We obviously interpreted these as positive replies (minus the judo chops to my wife’s ribs). Even before she was born, we saw glimpses of her personality and anxiously looked forward to meeting her in person.

We would regularly visit the doctor for check-ups. There we often got to see 3D sonogram photos (to my surprise we didn’t need those special movie glasses) and even a few 4D images. We had an idea of how she might look, as over time some of her facial features became more and more noticeable. We had felt her and we had seen glimpses of what she would be like. Still, we longed to see her face to face.

We had been given a delivery date and tried to plan accordingly. We made preparations for her coming. We purchased the final few items on our gift registry. Then we attempted to make space for her things (a bigger task than one might think). We tried to think through several different possible scenarios, as we wanted to be ready just in case she decided to come early or at a time less convenient.

Well, that’s exactly what she did. Sitting at one of our favorite restaurants enjoying a late breakfast date (on my birthday), through my wife’s increased contractions and pain level, it became pretty obvious that Charlotte was on her way. We went home, grabbed our car seat and overnight bags, and headed to the hospital. Sure enough, before the day was done, our fourth child was here (some kind of awesome birthday present, huh).

Right after she was born, just seconds after she had cried her first and most beautiful of screams (beautiful because it indicated that she was healthy and breathing – each one since has become slightly less enjoyable), the doctor laid her on my wife’s chest. Immediately, the one we had waited for and wondered about was here.

We could see her and touch her; we could hear her cry and sneeze; we could hold her. I cannot explain how excited I was that she was coming; yet my enjoyment of her actual arrival eclipsed my anticipatory enthusiasm. I had dreamed of holding her and snuggling with her on the couch. That first night I got to hold her while she slept. Char and I have since taken advantage of many opportunities to nap. And as great as I thought it would be, it has been even better.

As lovely as we thought she might be, she has been more. She’s more beautiful than we imagined, more precious than we hoped. While we technically still had things to do around the house, our hearts were ready for our little girl. Who we could previously only think about was finally here in the flesh. She was worth all the preparation. In fact, we could have done far more to welcome her into the world and still affirmed that claim – she would have been worth the extra effort.

And as I think about our newborn daughter, I cannot help but think about the shadow she casts, and how I see her coming in relation to our Savior. Do we not long to behold Him? Have our souls not ached for His appearing? We have tasted His goodness, witnessed His grace, and personally felt His tender mercies. Yet in all we have experienced, there is a longing for more. Enough of the fuzzy pictures and guestimates already, we want Him.

We have no exact date written in the Scriptures, just a promise that He’s coming again. And in that hour we’ll likely have plenty planned, many more things we had hoped to accomplish, yet it will all soon be forgotten. The troubles and cares of this world will be replaced with an overwhelming gratitude in His returning. Yes, in that day we will no longer cling through faith unseen, but we will know our hope by sight.

The temporary trophies and trinkets will fade in the grandeur of His glory. He will be greater than we imagined, far more than we had hoped for. Our mouths will drop in awe and wonder before filling with songs of praise. Our souls will acknowledge that He indeed is worthy – worth every cross we carried, worth every selfish desire we denied, worth every trial we fought through, worth every tear we cried, all the blood and sweat we lost, each hour of anguish we endured. It truly will be considered light and momentary. We will eternally exult in our good Father and worship His Name forever.

My wife and I thought we were ready to meet Charlotte, but we realized that in many ways our preparation was lacking. We longed to have her near, but the rich reality of her manifestation was more than we had asked. And yet she is not our Savior; she is not divine (her consistent 3am wake-up call is proof of that). She is a gift from above, meant to turn our gaze heavenward. For if such joy and depth can come through an imperfect child, how much more is to be found in the Christ. May our readiness not be in want and might our desire be for Him alone.

Whether He calls us home through death or we’re caught up in that day,

May our treasure be sweet Jesus, our Victory and Stay.

Matt Fowler
Assoc. Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler