Yesterday while reshelving some books I came across my pregnancy journal—Eve’s. I flipped it open to the last entry, something I’d written just a few hours before the onset of labor pains. Of course I didn’t know labor was so close at the time.
Here’s what I’d written:
"I was thinking last night at church about how waiting for you is like waiting for Jesus. Every day that goes by without event makes it seem more likely that the next will be the same. But the opposite is true. Every day you don’t come makes it more likely you’ll come tomorrow.
While anticipation should be heightened, I find it muted.
Funny but because Jesus didn’t come yesterday I wonder if He’ll ever come—I live like He might not ever come. That’s so stupid, as stupid as believing I’ll never have a baby because the baby didn’t come today. Jesus is coming soon—“sooner” tomorrow than today. I need to live urgently, with the hospital bag packed. Because the coming is guaranteed—just not the arrival date.”
Seven hours later, Eve arrived. :)