It’s been a long season of waiting for me, pregnant with hopes and dreams. I wrote a children’s book and am in the process of illustrating it. I can’t wait for it to go to print. I’m working with my favorite non-profit on regular publications and fundraising. I’ve been pregnant with ideas for getting the goodness in the organization out into the public eye. We help people. Can we help more? Can we go deeper?

In the waiting, I wonder when these dreams will be birthed. I fear a slow death, but I also fear a premature delivery. Half-baked ideas with an early birth often fail. God’s timing is not always apparent to me, but I know these things are in His hands.

Then my daughter, 30 weeks pregnant with our second grandchild, got sick. They told us the baby must be born “today.” Mabel Rose would not be full-term until 40 weeks. My daughter and I shed tears. My son-in-law’s face was blank, eyes wide. This was not the birth-plan. This was unexpected.

Just outside, spring was upon us. Grass sprouted in places it had not been before. The green tops of tulips were daring to push up through the dirt. March in Georgia can be quite warm, but this spring was cold. Too soon, too soon to sprout flowers. What were the tulips thinking?

As the tulips lay dormant during the winter, the remnants of the previous year lie shriveled and brown on the surface of the ground. They look dead. Weeds often grow over the spot where there was beauty. I’m often fooled into believing my buried aspirations are dead. My Irises have been dormant for three years. Perhaps they are not healthy but maybe they are waiting for the right time to bloom. Will my hopes and dreams die, or are they waiting for a better birth? Will I have the courage to birth them when it’s time?

If the Author of my story were to tell me the scope of His plans, would I dismiss it off-hand?

The nurses were cheerful and smiling as they prepared my daughter for the C-section. The baby doctor came in to talk to us. Our little girl will be fine. The survival rate is as good as a full-term baby. The incubator and nurses would take it from there.

My daughter never labored to birth this baby, but the baby was born. We must trust that this was the Lord’s timing. He orchestrates all deliveries: babies and dreams. While I am good at laboring toward my dreams, the delivery part is often a struggle. When the air outside is cold, I shut down and reckon this is NOT the right time. I often see the green shoots of growth and snip them off. I want my dreams to stay safe in the ground just a bit longer.

My grandchild was born on a Wednesday. She moved from her womb-home into the hands of the hospital staff. Could our Rose bloom this early? As I traveled to and from the hospital, the nip in the air reminded me that safety can be found in ways I had not imagined. She was safe in the NICU, getting the best possible care.

So the tiny dream went into the incubator, but we had to go home, leaving her in capable hands. What a lot of faith that takes! How can I have the faith to give God all my hopes and dreams? God, give me faith to let You birth these dreams. Give me strength to accept Your timeline. Give me patience to allow my dreams to lay dormant for a time. Let me not labor in vain. God, give me faith to let You deliver in Your time.

The dream was born in the cool spring, yet our tiny flower blooms.