When I was 6 months pregnant with Luke, Pete and I decided to take a "babymoon" (e.g., our last child-free vacation) to Australia, where we spent the majority of our time on the island of Tasmania. Toward the end of our trip, we ventured into Cradle Mountain National Park and stayed in a small cabin at the National Park lodge for a few days. The area had all the things that we love: great open spaces, miles and miles of hiking trails, and nature (literally) out our back door.
Because I was pregnant, I opted on the second day to stay back at the lodge while Pete went on a all-day hike around Crater Lake. Before he left, we decided to sign up for a nightlife viewing trip that evening that was scheduled to depart right after dinner. As planned, Pete arrived home shortly before dinner and got cleaned up; while he was showering, I relaxed on our back deck. As I was lounging there enjoying the view and the sounds of nature around me, I noticed a very large, strange animal -- which turned out to be a wombat -- just off the edge of the deck, slowly and obliviously munching away on the grass. I had never seen a wombat before and was mesmerized watching him (they look like enormous guinea pigs.) When Pete got out of the shower, he joined me in watching our new friend and we took a bunch of pictures for about 30 minutes.
Needless to say, our fascination with the wombat threw off our schedule and so we got to dinner late. And during dinner, our little baby (who we now know as Luke) would not settle down -- he was punching and kicking me nonstop. So during dinner we actually changed our plans and, rather than rushing through dinner, we decided to skip the nightlife viewing trip and instead just head back to the cabin afterwards so that I could lay down and hopefully get the baby to settle.
The next morning we were scheduled to leave Cradle Mountain and head to our next destination. Because we had a long drive ahead, we got up early in order to squeeze in one more hike. When we got to the park entrance, though, there were police cars everywhere and the trail head was blocked off with police tape. After talking with some of the police officers and visitor center personnel we learned that the nightlife tour bus that we were scheduled to be on the night before had been in a horrible accident. Apparently, the bus driver had pulled over to the side of the road to make space for an oncoming car and the shoulder of the road had given way, sending the bus toppling down a steep hill. Of the 17 passengers on the bus, 4 died immediately and 12 were seriously injured. To this day, I still cry when I think about how close we came to being on that bus. I truly believe that, even if Pete and I had somehow survived the accident, Luke would not have.
When we shared the story with our good friend, Jeff, he jokingly suggested that maybe the wombat would not actually appear in the photos when we got them developed since maybe the wombat was actually God in disguise. Well, the wombat did show up in the photos, but Pete and I still believe that that lazy, mesmerizing wombat was somehow sent by God to steer us down a different path and out of harm's way.
I also believe that Luke was sent to us by God. His restlessness that night, combined with the wombat, saved our lives. Had he been a quiet, easy-going baby we might have rushed through dinner and gotten on that bus and who knows whether we would even be here today. I believe that God gives you what you can handle and what you need in life. What Pete and I needed at that moment was an angel, and that is exactly what we received. When I think of angels, I think of them as being beautiful, happy, smiling, sensitive, determined, and loving -- all the things that my amazing child, Luke, is!
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