A few friends and acquaintances have had babies recently. I've watched these ladies from their pregnancy announcement, usually disclosed with great excitement and fanfare, through the morning sickness of the first trimester. I've watched their tummies grow along with their energy in their second trimester. And I've sympathized as their energy flags in the last trimester as they have trouble doing normal activities like washing dishes and getting wet clothes out of a washing machine, even getting out of a chair. And then they labor. And I, I am thankful! So thankful it's not me. Thankful to avoid the responsibility of one more thing in my life. Thankful my post labor, post C-section healing is done. So thankful that when I see an obviously pregnant woman I pause and thank God it's not me. And because God is never really silent, He's been talking to me about labor.
In His quiet, patient way, God has been reminding me how He is working in me. He is creating something in me, something wonderfully unique and just for me, but because of this I must labor. He has reminded me that I must nurture what He has created and placed in me. I must labor, daily. As the labor progresses, as my mind and spirit strain to accommodate this miracle, all the ideas and preconceived notions I have about God must stretch. My bones, the very tenets I claim through my limited ideas of faith about who God really is and what He wants, must move. These very bones that support this body and keep it upright must move. This body will never be the same again. Inevitably, I must give birth to His creation. As I grudgingly acknowledge this truth, He reminds me that I'm not alone, everything is going according to His plan, He is my labor coach, and I do not labor in vain.
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