Pain in Childbearing

“To the woman he said,

‘I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;

in pain you shall bring forth children.’” – Genesis 3:16a

Pain in childbearing. This was Eve’s punishment for disobeying God and eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Eve had barely processed her new relationship, and with that the command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen 1:28), and now she learns that the big proactive command she’s been given is going to bring great pain.

I’ve been mulling over and pondering this verse for several months now. What exactly is pain in childbearing? Obviously, the physical labor of delivering a child is a painful experience. No woman will argue that (and no man will dare try). Now, I’m not looking to discount any male preachers or theologians, here, who look at “pain in childbearing” and (not wrongfully) assume it is what it is; pain in the actual act of delivery. We all have our birth stories, and some can be downright miserable, but scripture even tells us that we tend to forget how bad the pain actually was, because of the joy of the baby.

“When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” – John 16:21

And yet this was Eve’s punishment? A few minutes, or perhaps hours (or days, if you have it really rough) of birthing pain?

I think there’s a lot more to it.

It took us four years to conceive Michael. That time of waiting, of not knowing, and of wanting was hard, especially as the months and years went on and the tests kept coming back negative.

When we learned of Michael’s kidney issues in utero, the concern, the fear, and the helplessness were sometimes paralyzing.

Though Michael’s actual delivery was not too bad (or perhaps that was the joy and adrenaline speaking!), his premature arrival was terrifying as we wondered if he would be okay, and then sat day after day in the hospital yearning to take him home.

 

Watching him grow and learn, but seeing him go through seizures and sickness and sadness and disappointment breaks this mama’s heart, though I know that he will face disappointment often in life.

We were overjoyed when we found out we were pregnant in March, though faint lines made it uncertain at first. Within a week of confirmation that we were indeed, expecting, Jesus took that sweet baby home. Heartache. Emotional heartache. And physical exhaustion, ache, and brokenness.

And now, as we celebrate our third pregnancy and look forward to this sweet baby girl’s birth in March, there is joy, but there is also heartache. After a miscarriage, it’s hard not to worry about her well-being. I find myself unable to read or listen to stories of loss without being overwhelmed by concern. We wonder what her timing will be like and every new week we praise God that she’s still well. It sounds terrible to write, and I remind myself to trust and hope, but I also know that God is sovereign and His will is perfect. And He said there would be pain in the process.

You see, the physical pain of childbearing is real. But the emotional and spiritual pain is so much more. It doesn’t stop when baby is born. It’s there in the women who so desperately want to conceive and can’t. It’s there in the women who lose a sweet baby in the womb. It’s there every day in the life of every mother who sees her child endure pain, sickness or sadness.  It’s there when your child says he doesn’t love you or chooses a path you wouldn’t have wished for him. It's there when they disobey you, perhaps giving us a small taste of how God felt when Adam and Eve disobeyed.

We don’t hear much about Eve’s birth experiences, but as a woman, I assure you that the pain she endured when Cain murdered Abel shook her to her core, and likely scarred her through her last days.

I believe every woman endures the pain of childbearing in some way or another. We “bring forth children” with great trepidation and great pain, physically and emotionally. But also great faith, dependence on God, and abundant joy. And it’s the joy – the joy of teaching our children (from our own womb or those we’ve been blessed to raise or pour into) about Jesus and doing the absolute best we can do to raise men and women of God.

There will be pain in childbearing. Every step of the way. But there will also be great joy. Cling to the joy. For the joy of the Lord is your strength.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

the fruit of the womb a reward. – Psalm 127:3

Relating to Jonah

We are fast approaching the six-month “anniversary” of our return to life and ministry in Zambia. Many of you have been keeping up with our Tiffany's facebook posts, prayer letters, and certain blog posts since our return, so it should therefore come as no surprise to you that these months have been marked by a great deal of frustration, stress, and questions. If you were to ask me my thoughts on it all, I’d probably give you a pained expression and a mumbled response along the lines of, “We haven’t done anything” or “We’re basically starting over.”

When things were particularly difficult back in June, I told Tiffany that I felt a lot like Jonah. She asked me why, and I didn’t have a good answer. But it’s still the way I felt. This same conversation came back about two weeks ago after a major training event we had planned for church leaders was cancelled due to scheduling conflicts with our primary instructor. Again, I said I felt like Jonah.

If you’re familiar with the story of Jonah, you might think that he is an odd character to identify with – not exactly a great role model for you or your children. But, in light of all that we’ve experienced, I feel that I can relate with him and everything he did and experienced in the short book bearing his name.

Let me give you some examples…

1) Hastily Fleeing

When we arrived in Zambia in 2010 for our first term as missionaries, we were excited. We knew beyond any doubt that this was where God was calling us. It was difficult at times, but we got through all those times with confidence because THIS was where we were supposed to be. THIS was what God made us for.

Fast forward to our return in April of this year. Gone are those feelings of excitement. We I felt as though we were returning out of obligation to our supporters and to the mission, but I was not fully convinced that returning was what God wanted us to do. Maybe we were supposed to remain in the US and take on a new ministry role there. I had so many questions that lingered in my mind. But we returned. And I felt as though I was running away from something.

Or wanting to run away. Wanting to flee from God’s call.

Much like Jonah was called to go and bring a message of salvation to Nineveh but ended up running away – from his home, from this call, and even from God (Jonah 1) – I felt overwhelmingly like I was either running away from God’s call, or I wanted to run but something was keeping me from doing so. And the questions continued.

Did God have something different – better – for us to do somewhere else, but we returned to Zambia because it was familiar?

When we realized that Sports Friends here had all but fallen apart in our absence and we needed to basically start over, was my frustration and reluctance to move ahead my way of running from the huge task of restarting the ministry?

Whether God was calling us back to Zambia, or indeed calling us to the US, it didn’t really matter. I was running from both. I began shutting down, avoiding all things ministry related. It all seemed to be too much, and I didn’t want to deal with it. So, I fled.

And then the storm hit. Everything around felt like it was flying in my face. Nothing I did was making it better. Like the sailors (Jonah 1:13), I couldn’t get myself out of it. I needed God’s intervention to set me straight.

2) Uncomfortably Waiting

It got to the point where Tiffany told me that something was very wrong. She was concerned because I seemed to have lost all passion. Something needed to change. So we took time to pray and seek the wise counsel of others who have been there. And through this time, we became more confident that God was calling us to Zambia, at least for now. But, along with this confirmation of our call came an undeniable feeling that we were to wait on the Lord and not take any of this into our own hands.

Waiting isn’t exactly my strong suit.

In Jonah’s case, God had him swallowed up by a big fish. He had nothing to do but wait as he sat in the fish’s GI tract for three days. Wait for God to release Him from the gastric prison. Wait for God to set him back on the dry land, geared up for the ministry he was called to do.

Now, three days does not sound like a long time, but it probably felt like an eternity to Jonah. For me, waiting for three hours can seem like an eternity. Three days would be almost unbearable. But knowing that God was confirming our call to Zambia and simultaneously telling us to wait on Him indefinitely, my mind was reeling. Wait indefinitely?? Can’t I do that in a place that is more comfortable? Maybe closer to my friends and family?

I may still be in this season of waiting – I may always be – and it’s not exactly an easy thing to live with. But I’m learning. Learning to wait for God to work out the details. Learning to trust that He is in control, even when I try to run away or take the reins.

And this season of waiting is causing me to pray like Jonah did in chapter 2 – praying in acknowledgement of my own failures and efforts to flee, praying for His provision and forgiveness, and praying to recommit to the ministry He has called us to, whatever that may look like.

3) Reluctantly Obeying

Have you ever told God that you would obey Him wherever He may lead, and follow through on your commitment, but only out of obligation and not willingly and joyfully? That seems to be what Jonah did. He went to Nineveh and spread the message of repentance and salvation he was told to bring, but then got upset with God for actually saving the people of Nineveh. He did what God called him to do. He did what He told God he would do. But he definitely didn’t seem happy about it, especially after seeing the outcome.

There are times – more often than I care to admit – when I feel the same way.

I told God that I would follow His leading. I told God that, if He calls us to serve Him in Zambia, we will continue to serve Him in Zambia. Where He leads, I will follow. But that doesn’t mean that I’m always happy about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m continuing to do this ministry because nobody else is doing it, and I’m in too deep to give it up at this point. Other times I know that moving forward will be more difficult and more painful, and I really don’t want to deal with that. I do it, because I believe in keeping my commitments, but I’m not always happy about it.

And then I’m reminded that God doesn’t want our half-hearted obedience (Isaiah 1:11ff; Hosea 6:6). He wants our hearts. If I’m not doing this to honor and glorify Him, then He doesn’t want me to continue. The Pharisees were obedient to the laws, but completely missed the point. Balaam did as God commanded him to do, but that didn’t mean he was saved. Reluctant obedience is not a pleasing sacrifice; worshipful and willful obedience to an awesome God in response to the grace He has provided through His Son – now that’s what He’s looking for.

That doesn’t mean it’ll be easy. But it makes the hard times worth it.

So my prayer for me, and my prayer for you if you find yourself going through similar times, is for a deeper relationship with the Lord. A greater, more intimate and personal knowledge of Him. Live to worship Him. This will pull you back from those times when you try to flee. This will give you peace as you wait for God to move. And this will bring you joy even as the path of obedience seems to bring nothing but difficulty.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

And do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him,

And He will make your paths straight.

~Proverbs 3:5-6

Complacency

We've all experienced it. We all become quite comfortable with it. Things are going okay. Life is "working." We're "getting by." But is there danger in becoming too comfortable? With being so okay with where we are and what we know that we cease to strive for something greater? What if we're hanging onto what is good - or even what isn't so good but it's what we know - because of the fear of what we will have to endure in order to reach what's better?

I've been reading "A Passion for the Impossible," a fantastic biography on Lilias Trotter, a single missionary to Algeria in the late 1800s/early 1900s. The following is an excerpt from her journal:

The martens have been reading me a faith lesson... one slept in my room last night and another darted in at the open window before I was up, swept round and out again.

Their faith lesson is this - that their wings need the sense of "an empty void" below to give them a start - their leg muscles have no spring in them and when they perch by accident on a level place they are stuck fast - poor things we did not know that natural history fact in the past and when we have found them on our flat Alger roof with its parapet protection, we have thought they had got hurt somehow, and more than once we have tried to feed them till they died, instead of doing the one thing that they needed - tossing them off into emptiness.

So we need not wonder if we are not allowed to stay longer in level sheltered places - our faith wings are like the martens and mostly need the gulf of some emergency to give them their start on a new flight. We will not fear when we feel empty air under them.

Because God knows we are fearful and weak, He sometimes provides whatever is necessary to take us out of our comfortable complacency, put us on our knees, in His arms, and fully dependent on Him. Only then is He able to accomplish through us that which we could never do on our own.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." - (Ephesians 2:10)

It may be frightening to step out of that comfort zone now, to adjust our lives to grow closer to God or to make an all out "leap of faith," but just as the marten has a confident hope in the ability to take flight after a leap into an unknown void, "we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Sprit, whom he has given us." (Romans 5:3-5)

Jesus' Superpower

Ever had someone ask, "if you could have any superpower what would it be?" Well, as much as I want to fly or be able to go invisible go back in time, I think the ultimate superpower would be that of Jesus.

No, I'm not talking about "being God," as cool as that would be. I'm talking about his ability to be fully human and yet completely sinless - and completely able to follow the will of the Father. Seriously, who does that? Our sermon this morning (thank you Isaac!) was about humility, looking at Philippians 2: 1-11 about Jesus humbling himself to death on a cross and how we should humble ourselves and put others first because we have shared in the joy and love of God. Yep. Heard it. Read it. But then he goes on to talk about how Jesus left all the prestige and power he had in Heaven - by choice - to come save our sorry selves from eternity in Hell.

Jesus didn't have to leave Heaven. He could have rebelled against the Father and said, "Nope, they don't deserve it. I'm going to stay on my comfy throne and let 'em suffer." But instead, he came here and suffered the excrutiating* pain of death on the cross, for us. Again, who does that? Seriously. And once he got here and was surrounded by prideful, terrible sinners who were all out for their own good (as we all are), he still didn't sin.

(*sidenote: apparently "excrutiating" is actually "of the cross" - as in - the word came to describe the worst pain ever suffered! )

So here's my theory: Jesus came here from Heaven, which means he was with God (being God of course), in God's presence, which means he got to fully experience how incredible God must truly be and therefore want to do nothing more than live in complete obedience to God's will - even if that meant death on a cross. In other words, God is way bigger, way cooler, and way more worthy of glory, honor and praise than any of us could ever fathom - because that's the only way Jesus could have lived so perfectly in His Father's will.

Which begs the question... how would we live if we had truly experienced God's awesome wonder and been with Him face-to face? Jesus didn't have a superpower (except the whole "being God" thing, but here on Earth, he was just a human like the rest of us) - he just knew God's amazingness. We can only begin to grasp that amazingness... and I don't know about you, but knowing how Jesus experienced God and thus had the will to obey Him, it makes me want to experience and know God more through His Word... and dream of truly being in His presence in His kingdom.