Labor of Love

I just hung up the phone from talking with my brother. He is at the hospital with his very pregnant wife, who is having contractions every two to three minutes.

Poor Bonnie.

And as I sit and wait anxiously for news of my very first niece (I warned my mom that I will be calling every five minutes), I can’t help but remember.

Nine months ago I was having contractions. I don’t miss that part.

I remember the anticipation leading up to that day…the fear mixed with wonder and excitement. I remember wishing with all my heart that I could skip the whole labor and delivery part. I mean, the nine months of pregnancy were great. And I couldn’t wait to hold my little girl in my arms. I just wanted to skip the in-between part. Is that too much to ask?

But God has a purpose in all things.

The pain was worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. It was intense – so intense, in fact, that I forgot to ask for an epidural because I was so focused on getting through each contraction. But it was nothing compared to the joy and awe I felt when I gave that final push and all of a sudden, my slimy child was placed in my arms. Now, up to that point, I secretly wished they wouldn’t hand her to me right away. I thought my first memory of seeing my baby would be better if she were already cleaned up and suctioned and all that good stuff. But believe me, when the moment came, I thought I had never seen anything more beautiful. It didn’t bother me one bit that she wasn’t clean. I was just relieved that she looked like a person at all! (The only images I could picture in my mind were the ultrasounds, and they made my child look a little more extraterrestrial than human.) I remember saying over and over, “She’s so beautiful!”

The most beautiful things are born through the most painful labor.

I realize that there are so many places you could go with that concept, but the one in mind right now is the one Christ was pointing to when He said…

“A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.” John 16:21

Such a true statement. And no one knew this better than Jesus. Oh, we women think we know. We walk (or waddle) around for nine months and anticipate the day of pain leading to the life of joy that is coming.

Jesus knew the labor that He would experience from the moment Adam fell in the garden. Well, let’s be honest, even that didn’t catch Him by surprise. So really, the “anticipation” has been since eternity past. Much longer than nine months. And His labor would be far worse. We suffer the pain of contractions. He suffered the wrath of the Father – the righteous indignation against every sin ever committed – the hell of separation from the Father with whom He had identified as one with Himself. He became sin.

What joy could possibly result from such agony? What could be worth the anguish of the cross?

For Jesus, it was us. Impossibly, we are the children that are born through His suffering. Incredibly, He sees us with as much (even greater) joy than I had when I saw my daughter. Amazingly, He looks at us, covered with the sinful slime of our pre-deliverance, and He thinks we are beautiful. He doesn’t want anyone (including ourselves) to take us and attempt to clean us up before He gathers us into His arms. He wants us just as we are. He will clean us up. He has earned that right.

What a miracle there is in beauty born of suffering.

Hold on, Bonnie. Your joy is coming.