My oldest child will be fourteen years old this year. Lauren is one of the brightest, nicest, and most beautiful creatures I’ve ever known. Her siblings are her only peers. I admit my bias. Lauren is especially unique because she is a constant reminder to me that God answers prayer. She and I share a birthday, mine occurring on the same day twenty-five years previous to hers.

My wife, Nancy, and I were pretty pumped about being parents for the first time. We were married in July of ’94 and immediately decided to start a family. Work, work, work! Took some practice to get it right, but good news arrived sometime in the first half of ’95. We were expecting, with a due date in the first week of January ’96.

Pregnancy is an interesting thing. Pending parenthood made previous marital conflict and the issues generating such conflict irrelevant. Mostly. We fought a lot less. Focus on the upcoming arrival of our first child helped both of us to remove the focus from self to someone outside ourselves. It is truly amazing how much conflict can be avoided when your priority is not your own interests. This was truly a gift for Nancy and me, as our bouts during the first months of our marriage are legendary, probably still discussed in hushed tones among the families of our little neighborhood.

As the baby grew, my wife became more uncomfortable. The experience was stretching her in ways she had never been stretched before, to say the least. The waddle that becomes a pregnant woman’s primary means of transportation around the beginning of the seventh month is truly a sight to behold. By the middle of the eighth month I was sleeping on the couch. I snore. My wife has the gracious ability to sleep through the noise. My wife does not snore, with the single exception of the final months of pregnancy. I am not as gracious, hence the couch for me.

Nancy and I decided early on we wanted to have our babies at home. In preparation for the birth, our midwife conducted a series of classes where we learned all kinds of things I won’t repeat here. We also watched some videos, which have left me permanently scarred. Deeply scarred. We did learn that it usually takes 40 weeks before a baby is ready to be born, but that anytime after 36 weeks is fine. This got me thinking. My birthday is on December 22. Our new baby was due (40 weeks) sometime first week of January. Wouldn’t it be cool if the baby were born on my birthday? This would be a couple of weeks early and given my wife’s increasing discomfort – benefit. I would share a birthday with my firstborn – benefit. This date would be after the 36-week point. Why not?

So, I prayed. It was a simple prayer, really. I asked God if the baby could be born on my birthday. In my heart, I felt I heard a clear “yes” in response. This was on Monday, December 18, 1995. I immediately told Nancy “Get ready. The baby’s going to come Friday.” She was not at all pleased with my announcement. Seems she had quite a surprise birthday celebration planned for me Friday night. She didn’t want to tip me off about the party, so she responded “But I’m not ready.” I told her that didn’t matter. We needed to get ready. The baby was coming Friday.

I also thought it would be good to inform our midwife, Susan, that we had a definite date on the calendar for the birth. When I told her about my conversation with God, she said something about how cute I was. That was her tone anyway.

Friday morning at 10:30am my wife’s water broke. Lauren was born into my waiting hands at 10:30pm on my birthday, December 22, 1995. What a birthday present! God answers prayer.