Emmanuel ~ God With Us!

The Christmas story is almost completely hidden among all the trimmings of the holiday season, from political correctness to materialistic expectations to overbooked calendars.  I am guilty.  Do we send out cards that say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays?  Will I have enough money to make the holiday season a success?  Have I bought all the ingredients for this party appetizer or that holiday meal?  Somehow we manage to embrace all of the necessary holiday requirements, except one – priority one for the shepherds and the angels and the wise men – the birth of the Christ child.

TODAY’S BIG STORY:  On Sunday, December 11, I transported a frightened expectant mother in full labor to a hospital emergency room!   After a frantic one-hour drive, she and I reached the hospital at 12:21 p.m., and she delivered her newborn son at 12:34 p.m.  While this story is certainly not meant to be compared to the nativity birth, the events of the day helped guide me back to priority one – Emmanuel, God With Us!

The morning began with a big red velvet cake mistake!  I was making preparations for our after-church holiday meal by baking a red velvet cake.  As I removed the cake layers from the baking pans, I was absolutely amazed how round and identical the layers were – symmetrical perfection!  I was getting ready for church and waiting for the cake layers to cool, when I received an unexpected text at 9:19 a.m.  The text read: “I know you are probably at church, but can you text me when you get out of church or when you are not around other people.”  Sensing that something was wrong, I said, “I will.”

The cake layers had cooled, so I began the icing process of cherry pie filling and homemade lemon/cream cheese frosting.  The frosting was thinner than I had hoped and instead of clinging to the cake, the tasty mixture was flowing down the layers and over the side of the cake plate.  When I attempted to move the cake to a larger cake plate, the cake fell apart.  My beautiful red velvet cherry torte was a total disaster.  Then, at 9:42 a.m., I received another text which read, “Okay the reason I texted you this morning is to ask if there is a doctor open today?  I’ve been having contractions.”

Involved with the sticky cake mess, I did not check the text until 10:02 a.m. After reading the text,  I quickly replied, “OMG!! Let me think…I am not going to church!  You need to get to me or I need to get to you!  Can you drive?”

She did not reply, so at 10:05 a.m., I sent another - more urgent - text. “Please tell your Mom!  She and I will get you through this!”  She immediately protested, “I cannot tell her.  No possible way.”

“Then you have got to get here,” I responded. 

The twenty-year-old college student told her mother that she was coming to visit my daughter who was also home from college for the holidays.  At 10:15 a.m., I dumped the red velvet cherry mess into a large bowl and placed the dessert disaster in the refrigerator.  I gathered together bread and drinks for my husband to take to the meal after church.  Then I called my daughter, Katie, who was involved in the fabricated story, and my other daughter, Aimee, who is a nurse.  At 10:19 a.m., my cell phone died, so I had to move my sim card to another cell phone to continue the conversations!

At 10:49 a.m., the expectant mother said that she was headed to my house.  She asked me if I was alone, and I assured her that everyone had gone to church.  She arrived at 11:04 a.m.  Once again, I called both my daughters to help me through the process and to support me during the trip to the hospital which was more than an hour away.   At 11:13 a.m., I called Aimee to inform her that we were leaving my house...the frantic trip had begun.  At 11:26 a.m., I reported to her that the contractions were coming two to three minutes apart.  She insisted that I remain calm (even though I was driving eighty miles per hour).  I began to pray to God that I would not have to deliver the baby without the help of medical professionals.  I prayed that He would keep us safe on the highway – emergency flashers and all!  I prayed for the young mother – experiencing the pain of natural childbirth without any medication or more importantly, the presence of her own mother.  And I prayed for the unborn child.

My phone rang at 11:33 a.m., and Aimee sternly advised, “You have got to tell her mother – right now!  Someone in her family has to know!  I am not saying this as your daughter, but as a medical professional!”  So I pleaded one final time for permission to call her mother, and she answered yes! At 11:35 a.m., I called her mother and calmly told her that we were headed to the hospital.  I delicately explained that her daughter was having a baby – a nine-month secret that had now been revealed!

At 11:56 a.m., I called Aimee again and alerted her that the contractions were now only one minute apart.  I began to panic that we were still twenty minutes from the hospital! My daughter said with a renewed composure, "Mom, God is with you.  You were foretold that this event would happen, and you are right where you are supposed to be.  Just calm down and breathe."

She was right.  On the previous Friday, I had been awakened out of a dead sleep by a frightening dream.  In the dream, the mother-to-be was screaming, "Help me! Help me, please!" She was crying and pleading, as she called me by name.  I awoke at 6:15 a.m. and sat straight up in my bed.  I kept calling and texting her throughout the morning.   When I finally reached her, I told her about the terrifying dream and convinced her to call me if she ever needed my help.  The following Sunday morning, she did.

At 12:21 p.m., we finally arrived at the emergency room of the University Medical Center.  I jumped out of the vehicle and ran inside the emergency room entrance.  I did not scream.  In a quiet deliberate voice, I said, "A young woman is having a baby in my vehicle as we speak."  Immediately, a team of medical personnel wheeled out a stretcher and moved her to the delivery room.  After I parked the vehicle in the visitors' garage and found identification information, I proceeded to the registration office to complete the paperwork.  At 12:43 p.m., I sent my other daughter, Katie, a text. "OMG!!! WE MADE IT!  She is headed to the delivery room!  Thank you for praying! Thank you, God!"

Before I sent the text or finished the admission process, the young mother had already delivered a healthy baby boy at 12:34 p.m.!  AMAZING!!!  I sat in the waiting room and waited for the baby's grandmother to arrive.  I thanked God, again, for His divine presence. I repeated over and over, "Emmanuel, God with us!" What comfort!! EMMANUEL, GOD WITH US!

After her mother and family began to arrive, I announced my departure.  While driving home, I thought about the events of the day.  As I said earlier, I never intended to compare the birth of this baby to the virgin birth; however, I knew I had seen signs and wonders on this December day.  I had been forewarned in a dream.  We had arrived at our destination just minutes before the baby was born.  The delivery was textbook, the newborn was healthy, and a young mother who bore her own secret scorn and private judgment for nine months was now surrounded by the unconditional love and public support of her family.   I looked above the interstate and a perfectly round full moon was leading me home.  Truly…the season for miracles still existed in 2011. I had found my way back to priority one. 

When I finally got home, my husband and I shared stories about the day.  He said, “Oh by the way, your red velvet cake was a huge success ~ the favorite dish of the day!”

I scolded him, “You took that messy bowl of red velvet cake to church?”

He replied, “Yep…and there is one small chunk left!  Evidently people didn’t care what it looked like on the outside!”

The final confirmation:  I had forgotten priority one.  I had seen the cake when it was perfect, and I was disappointed with the end result – broken and messy.  All that had mattered to me was the outward appearance of the cake and what people would think when they saw it.  I had decided to just hide it away in my refrigerator, where only the members of my family or I would know about the regrettable mistake.  I had forgotten the most important thing –  the combination of all those perfect ingredients inside that delicious cake! 

Wow!  Broken and messy…and in the end – red velvet redemption! I looked up messy in my thesaurus, and I found synonyms such as disastrous, tragic, heartbreaking, woeful, and unfortunate; however, I also found antonyms such as blessed, happy, joyous, and wonderful. 


What a perfect Christmas story!  Emmanuel! God With Us!  Welcome to our world, sweet infant child!

Dianne ; )