My youngest son recently celebrated his 38th birthday. NO big deal. Another year under the sun. Twelve more full moons have come and gone since his 37th. Another winter. Another spring. Another summer. Another fall. One season following another, but for some reason this year the memories of his birth day caused me to recall in detail - that day - Pete’s birth day.

It was a Monday. August 20, 1984.

IN those days of yore - moms went to the hospital the day before they had their scheduled C-sections and we stayed for a week. I was going for my yearly week of R&R at the Orillia - Soldiers Memorial Hospital. At home - my nieces, Jane and Karen, were caring for 2 year old Zac, and 1 year old Ben. Randy was helping me settle into my room.

Afterward I would hear from my friends that because their own babes kept them awake half the night - they were praying for the safe delivery of our baby. They told me they were singing hymns and songs over us. They were praying Scripture verses for us. All in preparation for the next day.

My C-section was scheduled early on Monday morning but because of scheduling issues, it was delayed for a couple of hours. Around 10 am - Randy kissed me and said he would see “us” soon (dads didn’t come into the operating room in those days) and I was wheeled upstairs to have our baby. While they were preparing the OR, I was lying outside in the hall, by myself. Waiting. Waiting.

I wasn’t afraid but was feeling a bit lonely. A verse I had reflected on the day before came into my head - Genesis 18:14 “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” The prophet Jeremiah answered this question - “There is nothing too hard for Thee!” I knew God’s power was limitless and His promises are true and secure. That truth softened my heart and I anticipated that our baby would be born so very soon.

I was wheeled into the OR and I remember it being so chilly. (Why do they keep operating rooms so cold?) The doctor who was administering the epidural came in as did the nurse. If you’ve had a C-section with an epidural - you know that you are rolled onto your side, asked to pull your knees up to your chin, keep motionless - and do this with your belly the size a medicine ball!

I was lying on my left side and the only thing I could see on the wall was the clock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Time passing by. The needle was placed into my back! I anticipated what would happen - very shortly the freezing would start in my belly and move down my legs.

It began that way but just as quickly - it also rose up - up - up - to my neck. I was paralyzed from my neck down to the tip of my toes. I opened my mouth to scream for help but no sound came out. My vocal cords were paralyzed as well. Unbeknownst to me - the doctor and nurse had left the operating room and I was alone - paralyzed - seeing the clock - tick tock - tick tock - time marching on.

I panicked.

I was terrified.

I couldn’t breathe.

I knew that if I didn’t get help quickly, I would die and so would my baby.

Memories of my childhood, youth, family, marriage and two sweet toddlers at home flashed into my mind. I saw my life flash across the screen of my life. It went by in a flourish.

And then….the sweet peace of the Lord Jesus came over me as I remembered the verse I had quoted to myself just moments before. “Is there anything too hard for the Lord?” “NO!” I prayed for the Lord to bring someone in the OR to save me and our baby. My brain called out to God for help in my time of really deep trouble.

Because I’m writing this blog - you know the outcome. My doctor, a Christian man from our church, came into the operating room and quickly assessed the situation. He yelled for the team to get in there STAT and I was immediately put on a respirator. (They gave me a general anesthetic as well so I wouldn’t hear what was being said!)

I woke up hours later and I thought the bright light of the Recovery Room was heaven. I was convinced that I had died. Quickly I knew I hadn’t. God had answered my desperate prayers in the OR and soon I would meet my new son and we would be united with Randy and Pete’s big brothers.

An interesting part of this story is the prayers of my family and friends, specifically one of my sisters. She told me later that on that Monday morning at the same time that my epidural had been put into my back and the doctor left the OR she was crying out to God on my behalf. She said she had no other words except - “God help her, Martha needs your help.” She said she prayed those words over and over again until the feeling of urgency had passed. Amazing that she was prompted to pray in that vein at that time. Other family members said because they hadn’t heard the news of the birth early in the morning they thought something had gone wrong and were “praying without ceasing”.

Pete and I came home from the hospital 6 days later and never was I so thankful and happy to be in my own little nest with my husband and three littles.

Over the years as I’ve reflected on that day, I give thanks that Pete and I lived. God graciously gave me three little boys to care for and protect and raise and teach to be strong men, strong husbands and fathers. God allowed Randy and I to continue to pastor the local churches we served for 35 years. After the boys were in school I had the opportunity to teach piano and voice and teach classroom music to students at the Listowel Christian school and John Calvin Christian school in Guelph. I was able to share music at the Sunbeam Centre in Kitchener. Music has always been a huge part of my life.

I have learned the importance of that niggling in my mind and heart to pray for others. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and a loved one comes to mind and I pray. Most times I don’t know exactly what I should be praying for but God hears and answers. Pray.

It was Martin Luther who said - “None can believe how powerful prayer is, and what it is able to effect, but those who have learned it by experience. It is a great matter when in extreme need to take hold on prayer.”

As the seasons follow each other - count it all joy - for opportunities to spread love to those around you.