Carry A Lamb, The Sheep Will Follow

2 07 2013

How do you get a herd of skittish sheep over a bridge? You pick up a lamb and carry it across. Mom will freak out and skitter after her baby; the rest of the sheep…because they are sheep…will follow.

I watched this happen on a human level…

Fast forward a year or so from the day I exchanged my judgment of my son-in-law, Brandon, for God’s heart for him. My daughter, Beth, was about to give birth to her second child. Things between Brandon, my husband, Wendel, and I had warmed up a tad. We weren’t “best buds” or anything close to it, but our relationship was improved.

At the hospital, we waited…and waited…and waited for the delivery. They’d induced Beth’s labor and given her an epidural; however, the drugs were hard on her body. At one point I went out to the front desk and talked to the nurse.

“Beth’s blood pressure is 65 over 50. Should we be concerned?”

“No. Not at all. I’ll be in to give her some Epinephrine in a little bit.”

(I helped my mom get her nursing degree, and worked for a doctor for five years. I knew there was some sort of problem.)

At five in the morning, her nurse came in to say that there was a resident available if  Beth wanted to go ahead and have her baby.

Imagine our surprise when she said, “No. My doctor said she’d be here at six. I’ll wait for her.”

After what seemed like ages, her doctor appeared, suited up and ready to go. The nurses quickly prepared the warmer and Beth’s bed.

After a couple of pushes we were in business, and the little one began to make his way out.

When his head appeared, he gave a pathetic squeak. Something was terribly wrong. I could sense it.

Looking down at the tiny fellow, I saw that he was blue. The umbilical cord was wrapped three times around his neck so tightly that the skin bulged around it.

The doctor deftly slid scissors into that mess and cut through the noose that had strangled my grandson. There was no time for clamps, so as each cord was severed, it let loose like a rubber band, spraying everything with blood.

In horror, I watched the tiny body slip the rest of the way out, and then saw the doctor pass his limp, blue body over to the pediatrician. During this time, the doctor kept up lively chatter. I noticed that she wove  instructions for her nurses into the conversation.

We waited for the placenta to be delivered, doctor still chatting; underneath that I heard the pediatrician quietly count, “One, two, three, four…” Brandon walked over to the warmer to see what was going on, took one look at his dead son, and bolted out the door.

I began to pray, “Oh, Lord, please don’t take this little child from us. I wouldn’t know how to help them through this. May we please have him back?”

Beth looked up at me and said, “Where’s my baby? What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine, dear,” I replied, my best smile pasted on. (Umm hmm, that Christian “F” word!)

I heard a faint cry from the warmer! Relief flooded through me like a tidal wave, and tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “Thank You.”

Beth was allowed to hold Landon for only a moment before they rushed him to NICU. The doctor came in later to explain that he’d lost a great deal of blood. Landon was being given a transfusion and he’d been put on a ventilator. We could expect him to be there for a few days until he was stabilized.

As soon as I had a chance, I called our prayer team at home and asked them to pray for Baby Landon, Beth – and especially for his daddy’s salvation.

The rest of my visit at the hospital was a blur. Shortly before dinner, I returned to their home, where my husband, Wendel, and their daughter, Destiny were waiting. A couple of hours later Brandon dragged in, looking pretty worn.

We discussed the morning’s events. It was a perfect opportunity to talk to him about Jesus.

“You know,” we told Brandon, “If Landon hadn’t been given back to us, he would be sitting on Jesus’ lap right now. On the other hand, if you’re in an accident on your way to or from the hospital and you die, what would happen to you?”

That question developed into a deep conversation about God. Wendel and Brandon talked long into the night.

We were all delighted when both mother and son were released from the hospital the following morning. His was a “miraculous” recovery. 🙂

No “decision” was made that night by Brandon, but we were delighted when we attended the their baptism several months later, along with the dedication of their children.

Jesus had been trying to woo Brandon over the “bridge” of salvation for many years. It wasn’t until his child was on the other side (even for that short a time) that he had any interest in what lay beyond that crossing.




11 responses

4 07 2013
Toni Sprandel

Wow, that is just incredible!

4 07 2013

God is so incredible!


2 07 2013
Pure Glory

God’s love for your daughter, son in love, and grandson Landon is heart warming. He heard your cry and saved more than one life that day. God is amazing.

2 07 2013

Isn’t He though? That was one of the more remarkable days of my life with God – and I’ve had many. 🙂


2 07 2013
Pure Glory


2 07 2013

The seed that you have sown will not be in vain. Keep praying for God to grow it into a harvest one day !!

2 07 2013

As I type, this couple and their three kids are in Nevada, on their final leg to California, and my home. We haven’t seen each other in almost two years, but God has been faithfully helping them grow. Thanks for your encouragement – for I do wait for that harvest yet to come!


2 07 2013
Especially Made

Amazing story!

2 07 2013

How do people manage without Jesus in their lives, I wonder. I don’t know what I’d do, honestly.


2 07 2013

Thank you for sharing such a strong story of faith.

2 07 2013

God has been so good to our family, with us through thick and thin. He doesn’t always do things the way we’d like, but eventually we see His wisdom in the way He chose to do things.

Have a blessed day, dear sister!


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