Some mystery pains in Sarah’s belly last night led us to a visit to the hospital for a late-night check-up, but I got to have one of my first intimate moments with my son who will be born next April.
It was my job to keep two fingers on the baby heart-rate monitor in order to accurately monitor his beautiful little heart. (I can use the description “beautiful” with some authority as the nurse in the last ultrasound said described his heart as beautiful.) He was moving and rolling and kicking and it was quite a challenge to keep the monitor focussed on his heart.
From time to time the sound would drop out and I would have to make subtle movements with my fingers to find it again. I fixed my eyes on the lights on the machine that showed his heart rate, flashing numbers between 140 and 160, with the occasional disappearance. It became easy to think of it as a game – my boy cheekily avoiding the monitor and daddy tenaciously tracking his movements.
I really enjoyed it. I love his heart. I love the nature that God has put in him. God has blessed me with a father’s privilege to know my children’s hearts and to track them – to keep looking when it’s hidden, to find it and nurture it.
I am thankful for the way that my Heavenly Father gracefully pursues and gently holds my heart, considering it a treasure.
8/1/10
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