A Matter of the Heart

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16).

“You’re going to be a dad soon!”

With our son’s due date swiftly approaching, I find that Elaina and I are being told more and more these days how we’re going to become parents in a few short weeks. In fact, ever since we found out that we were expecting our first child, many well-meaning folks have consistently said the same thing to me—“You’re going to be a dad soon!”

I know what people mean when they say this—but they’re wrong for saying it thus. I’m not going to be a dad soon: I am a dad. I needn’t wait for my son to be born to be his father any more than he needs to wait for his birth to be my son. Nor, for that matter, does my son first have to be born in order to be considered a person—he simply is one. To say to me, “You’re going to be a dad soon!”, makes about as much sense as me rubbing my wife’s belly, quietly whispering to the baby inside: “Just you wait, you’re going to be my son soon.”

Words, and the way we use our words, are of the utmost importance. To say that a mother or father becomes one only after their child is born is to betray a dangerous set of beliefs—a worldview which stands in stark and violent opposition to Biblical Christianity. No one in the Bible ever spoke this way. The fact that many of us do, almost without considering the implications, suggests that the culture around us has seeped into our thinking and speaking far more than we’d like to admit. Like a fish in the ocean, we scarcely even notice the environment we find ourselves suspended in.

Once more: I know that most individuals likely do not mean in their heart what such a phrase implies. But then again, if someone truly doesn’t mean something, then they just shouldn’t say it to begin with.

Indeed, such phrases—“You’re going to be a dad soon!”—are merely symptoms of the greater rot and wickedness that have so infected our culture: an infection which desecrates the sanctity of the unborn, going so far as to even celebrate and encourage their annihilation, resulting in hearts, wombs, and lives that are utterly hollow. The words we use, and the ways in which we use them, have a direct impact on the way we think—and the way we think will shape the various ways in which we love, or fail to love, the smallest among us.

Now, as I’m writing this, I readily admit that even the best of us lapse into moments—or seasons—of inconsistency. The Christian life is a gradual progression of spiritual maturity, of sanctification, wherein we grow in our faith as the Lord does His work in us through the years. Much of this work involves a daily drawing together of the seen with the unseen; allowing the invisible truths of God’s word, the unseen, to shape and interpret our understanding of the world around us, the seen.

For parents, and I think particularly for fathers, there is an opportunity to exercise this kind of faith—the drawing together of the seen with the unseen—as husband and wife anticipate the arrival of their child into the world. At the moment of conception, you and your spouse are a mother and father, parents to a unique soul who now also bears the image of God. And yet, at least for a time, this reality goes about largely unseen—though, my wife assures me, the reality is surely felt! Nonetheless, you and your spouse are now parents, even as your child is just that, a child—a living soul to be loved and cared for. And, what better way to love someone than to pray for them?

Over the past few weeks, the importance of prayer was impressed anew upon my wife and I.

After what we thought was to be a routine checkup, our midwife discovered an anomaly with our son’s heartbeat. She suspected it was an arrythmia—an abnormal heart rhythm. To be safe, my wife and I were sent from the midwife’s office directly to the hospital where a flurry of appointments awaited Elaina and the baby: heart monitoring, ultrasounds, and the like. The ride over to the hospital, short as it may have been, felt drawn out and quiet.

Throughout the long afternoon that followed, I found it surprisingly difficult to string together a coherent set of prayers any greater than, “Lord, I know you are in control. We trust you.” Though, looking back, I suspect there is scarcely a prayer more profound. With my mind working away as it was on the sudden news, I kept praying these words in addition to turning over some familiar passages of Scripture in my heart: “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16). Whether I prayed these words with our son in mind or more so for Elaina and I, I cannot say—it was likely a blend of both.

We left the hospital later that afternoon with some inconclusive assurance that these sorts of things aren’t entirely uncommon. Our son had what’s called “an irregularly irregular” heartbeat, meaning that his heart’s rhythm was indeed irregular, but not consistently so. Among the variety of “irregular heartbeats” a baby could have, an irregular one was the least troubling. Such irregularities arise in preborn babies for a wide host of reasons: it could have to do with the heart’s electromagnetic field, or with some incongruity between the top and bottom of baby’s heart as it continues to develop and sync properly, or, more seriously, the arrythmia might stem from structural issues within the heart itself. The doctor at our local hospital sent a requisition for further testing to a facility that specialized in infant care, McMaster Hospital, in addition to a handful of local checkups in the interim.

The saying goes, “The heart of the matter is a matter of the heart.” In the time that spanned between appointments, my thoughts turned more and more to my son’s heart—not only to his physical heart which had caused so much commotion of late, but his spiritual heart. Since I became the boy’s father, my prayers for him have been ceaseless, though almost entirely along a single point: “Lord, please continue to strengthen and mature our child. Take care of his little heart as it grows—please, bring him safely to Elaina and I.”

I still pray this sort of prayer daily. Though, my emphasis is no longer so heavily focused on the health of my son’s heart and physical body, as though his frame were composed only of organs and bones and tissues. After our visit with the specialists at McMaster Hospital a few weeks ago, it was concluded that our son was in good health and that any irregularities he may have are more or less insignificant when it comes to his development, birth, and overall health.

Praise the Lord—He is good and kind beyond all measure.

Though, like all children, whether in the womb or freshly out of it, the issue of my son’s heart persists. His physical heart may strike an irregular beat here and there; in time, this may well resolve itself. His spiritual heart, the seat of his inner man, however, remains one that is in dire need of renewal. It is likely he will grow out of his arrythmia and live a completely normal life; my son’s spiritual heart, however, still requires healing from the hands of the Master Physician.

My son may not be born yet, but my son he remains, even as I am his father. I’m not going to be his dad in a month’s time: I am his dad—today, right now, just as I’ve been for the past eight months. And as his dad, I consider it my solemn and joyful duty to “bring [him] up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4). The lion’s share of this godly instruction will take place after his birth and into the years ahead. But, by God’s grace, I intend to lead and love him well in this rapidly-waning season of awaiting his arrival, even if it only ever be with prayers on his behalf to the Lord who delights to renew hearts for His glory. Indeed, both now and hereafter, so long as he and I live, that remains the very best I can do for him.

And so, as we anticipate the arrival of our son, our prayers are aimed high—praying not only for his first birth, but for his second birth as well.

“Lord, please continue to strengthen and mature our child after the image of Your beloved Son. Take care of his little heart as it grows in the knowledge and understanding of You—please, bring him safely home to Thee. In the name of Christ our Lord, Amen.”

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Photo by Omar Lopez, Unsplash

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