Jack

Approximately 18 months ago, I placed a bright green post it on my bathroom mirror with one word on it.  A name actually. It was the name of my oldest and dearest friend and I made the decision to pray for her every day, every morning as I got ready, and every evening as I brushed my teeth (and any times in between that I saw it).  I prayed hard, and I prayed faithfully, as she was doing for herself, and as I know she has done and continues to do for me.  I prayed for God to be with her and I prayed for His comfort and His timing.  And one day last September, I set my alarm to remember to pray extra hard for her, and her husband, and the sweet baby that I knew would one day be a part of their family.

You know, I've prayed my whole life... I've thanked God for things, and I've asked God for things. But I'd never been one of those people who had "heard" God answer.  I always assumed if I did (which I honestly didn't think I would), it would be LOUD, like the voice over on a movie.  But I truly believe I heard Him barely whisper that Sunday morning, and He told me that it would all work out and Jenny would have a sweet baby boy.  I knew instantly that it was taken care of (although I felt crazy that I thought I heard God whisper to me), so I didn't say anything to her.

When she called me to tell me she was pregnant, I said "I KNEW it!" and we both cried. She went on to say that it was SO early, but she thought she was having a boy, and I said "YOU ARE!" and I told her the story and we both cried again.

I got this picture in the Fall, and I cried.

I got this one in December, and I cried.

In January, she just texted me "You were right" and I knew...he was a boy, and I cried.

I felt him kick in February, and it was the coolest thing ever, and we both cried (are you noticing a pattern yet? We like to cry sometimes when we are together.)

At her shower in April, she was the cutest pregnant girl ever, and really we just smiled and laughed (well, mostly).

Yesterday afternoon I was supposed to call her so we could voice to voice catch up, and I could tell her a story I had that was too long to text.  I jokingly said Thursday night "Unless you're delivering a baby then ;)" She replied "My contractions are SO sporadic- I don't think true labor is coming anytime soon,"

The next text I got was yesterday afternoon: "I think my water broke."

My response? "Oh shit!" (sorry Mom, I didn't know what else to say...)

We texted a bit through the evening, and I told her to let me know what was happening. When she texted me a little after 5am today I woke straight up and grabbed my phone.

The text? No words, just a picture.



My response? No words, just tears.

I stared at his picture and started to cry, which turned to sobs, which turned to Ugly Cry (I didn't pull a Dane Cook and actually look in the mirror, but I know it was Ugly Cry). I bet I cried for 15 minutes. I was just overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with this sweet baby on my phone. Overwhelmed for this prayer brought to life. Overwhelmed for someone I love more than anything to have something she wanted more than anything. Overwhelmed with just how good God is.  I started texting her back, and then I realized that was ridiculous, but I couldn't hold it in.  I felt like Harry in the Sex and the City movie (the good one) "I'm just a big pile of love!" At this point, it was almost 6, and I had to tell someone how happy I was, so I posted it on Facebook:

on an aside: I loved that this status update caused Megan McCarty to call me at 8:30 am and say
"What's going on? What had you praising the Lord at 6:00 in the
morning?" God bless her for understanding I am not a morning person!

So a happy happy birthday to Jack Douglas Wainman.  You were worth the wait, and you are already loved more than you can ever understand. I can't wait to hold you, and kiss your sweet face, spoil you, and do my best to make you a Wildcat fan. The post it with your mama's name may have faded, but my prayers for her (and now for you) have not.