{ Humbled }

"The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."

~ Deuteronomy 33:27a

Steadfast love abounds.

I'm 37 or 38 weeks--depends on whether you ask me or the neonatologist--which means Lainie has the all-clear to be born if she likes; at this point, she's considered full-term.

We are part of an amazing church family spread across four states, with 11 church "campuses" in Washington alone. Last Sunday, Father's Day, the pastor at our campus asked Mike if we'd come on stage before the service and explain what's going on with Lainie so our church can pray for us. There are between 600 and 700 people on an average Sunday just at our "campus," so even with Mike's stellar social skills, we worship with a lot of brothers and sisters in Christ that we don't know personally. It was amazing. People I'd never met came up to me afterward and said they'd be praying for us. And we keep hearing of other people who are praying for Lainie, people we don't even know: the church in Oregon where my childhood pastor and his wife {now retired} attend. My mom's friend's prayer chain in Montana. People Mike knows through his business.

 

 

One thing we have been hoping and praying for is somewhere close to Children's for Mike and I to stay while Lainie is hospitalized. We only live 22 miles away, but in traffic it can easily take over an hour and a half to drive that distance. We're too close to qualify for the Ronald McDonald House. And Mike's work is pretty much in the opposite direction. I've been trying to psych myself up for sleepless nights on the floor of her hospital room, telling myself that I can handle a sick newborn and no home base and no sleep for a few weeks to months. I have to. {How Mike will be able to handle the same and continue working, I do not know...but I believe he can do it. He's an incredible man.} For several weeks we have been trying to find closer lodging through contacts at the church campus closer to Children's, but with no luck.

Last week, after our church prayed for us, that changed in a big way.

By Wednesday, Mike was in contact with a family that goes to the church campus near Children's. Their oldest child was born prematurely and spent several weeks in the NICU; they have a huge heart for families in situations like ours. They also live 10 minutes from Children's and have a spare bedroom they are letting us use for as long as we need it! But wait--here's the crazy part: It's Wednesday night. They are leaving on a two-week vacation on Friday morning, and Lainie could easily be born while they are away. Mike and the dad of this family both have to work all day Thursday, so the wife and I arrange for me to come to their home to meet her and get keys.

These people have never met us before.
They don't know us from Adam.
They are about to go on vacation, and they give their house keys to perfect strangers and tell us to make ourselves at home, use the shower and laundry, here's how to run the TV, there's a BBQ grill on the deck you can use anytime, come and go whenever you need and don't feel like you have to check in with us--we just want to help you.

That's all Jesus. That's not something you do, not in this day and age, not in Seattle. I'm speechless and completely humbled and grateful and thankful to this family. They're letting us into their home and their lives with open hands, no expectations, truly getting nothing out of this in return. All because they love Jesus, we're part of the same crazy-huge church family, and when they heard about our need, they stepped up. It's crazy. Just crazy. I can't wrap my head around it. And I can't express what a relief it is to know that if we need a couple hours' uninterrupted sleep, we don't have to check into a hotel or drive hours away from Baby Girl. We can zip literally 10 minutes up the street...and if Lainie needs us, we're only 10 minutes away.

That's God's grace. That's steadfast love. That's everlasting arms, our refuge just when we need it, at just the right time: a place to stay, provided the day before Lainie's considered full-term.