Our baby boy is growing and kicking and stretching and reminding me every day that God has packed him jam-full with life. I fell so deep in love with this verse this week:
As you do not know the way
the spirit comes to the bones
in the womb of a woman with child,
so you do not know the work
of God who makes everything.
(Ecc. 11:5, ESV)
I love that the Bible assures us God is present in the womb - where life is, of course, God is, because He is the life-giver, the Breath of Life. It all comes from Him. He knits us together, bone and spirit, in the womb. Babies don't just grow as lifeless bodies in their mothers and then begin living at birth. They live and grow and gnaw on their fingers and suck their thumbs and play with their hair and have hiccups and stretch and wriggle and live in that womb ... spirit and bone.
My growing boy doesn't let me forget him these days. He's active and amazing all the time. God is completing him, preparing him for life out here. It's funny, because I sometimes forget that He doesn't stop, once we're complete babies at 40 weeks. He keeps knitting, even after we're born.
I'm often overwhelmed by how much I need to teach and nourish and instruct Sam and Vava. That's part of the knitting. And they're getting to the point now where they play with each other almost every moment, and teaching them how to behave as family - to clothe their actions in kindness - is a full-time job. I feel like I'm nattering on at them all the time. But they're not completed yet. They're being knit together - siblings, a family - as their characters are developing and being shaped.
And then, of course, teaching them reminds me to look up and see who is teaching me, and to remember that I, too, am still being knit together with my siblings. My brothers and sisters in Christ, we drive each other crazy sometimes - just like Sam and Vava. We get in each others' faces, step on each others' toes, tattle, whine, fight ... we're in process. We're being knit together. We're not done.
We're not complete and whole on our own - we're meant to be part of our family.
Baby K is growing toward a 40-week completion date, but he's not meant to stay in there, perfect and alone. Sure, he'd never fight with his siblings if he stayed in my womb - but he's meant for so much more than just not fighting.
I can see the tendency in myself, wanting to withdraw and longing for solitude when I'm tired of getting along with people, tired of trying, tired of putting up with them not leaving me alone. We prepped our deck for a painting makeover yesterday. Our neighbour offered his opinion that he doesn't like the colours we chose. I felt it - that flash of resentment, that flare of wishing we lived alone on an island where others' opinions weren't foisted on us unasked. My own little isolated warm untroubled womb.
But we're made for family. None of us achieves anything on our own. When I was born, I couldn't feed or clothe or comfort myself. My parents cared for me, snuggled me, held me, fed me, ensured I had everything I needed to grow. My sisters and brother bugged and annoyed and loved and taught and endured me. People who lived before me built the infrastructure that provides me with electricity, running water, education, sanitation, and abundant food & clothing. I enjoy all of these blessings that make life rich and pleasant. Alone? Left alone, I'd be long gone. I was made for family.
That's how God makes us into the church. Life begins with salvation, the Spirit dwelling in our tents of skin and bone, and He makes us His family. Our brothers and sisters in Christ teach us and love us and bug us and make us laugh and help us. We're meant for each other - we're being knit together - family.
I take comfort in seeing my kids fighting and loving and growing together. Those annoyances? Evidence that God's needles are busily knitting them together into a family. And a reminder that the hassle of getting along with my siblings is so much more than worthwhile. :)