Written on November 11, 2015.
Some weeks go wild and wonderful, becoming fast and full without your consent, yet within your content. And in the first deep breath, catch your breath, you realize, its only Wednesday and you have already experienced more in a few days than you thought you would in an entire week, month, year.
This week has been one of those. I had the extreme honor of attending the arrival of two Heaven bundles who appeared twenty two hours apart. And I’ve had the great joy of receiving six couples (a little later than they arrived, albeit) from throughout, for a week to pursue the more of marriage. A crazy cocktail of days for sure. And in between drinks, I became completely fascinated by something. Contractions.
Labor can’t do without contractions, though they are something those birthing would like to do without! They are uncomfortable, painful and at times, seemingly relentless. For they won’t stop until what has been held inside makes its way out, tumbling from darkness to light and into arms trembly from the journey from start to finish.
The contractions that wrapped me up and ripped me open, are the ones that are not described in any birthing book or labor app. They are not even merely mentioned. It is as if for some unknown reason, you aren’t to be prepared for them. Or maybe it is because the world doesn’t always understand His ways, so it was always a discovery for us to make.
The longest duration of a contraction described in any reference or resource is ninety seconds. The ones not spoken of, arrive as the others do, but stay for what seems like forever. Their duration is two to four minutes. For reals.
They come right after whispered words from lips of the faithful who have had contracting companions for hours. “How much longer?” “I don’t think I can do any more.” And all you, the midwife can say is “breathe”. And you watch as the most incredible thing happens. The looking for relief from between the ebb and flow ceases and the pursuit of peace begins. And it comes. And it does what peace does. It puts everything in order and brings rest in wait. When what you have waited for is making its way to you, slowly and surely. Every breath brings the longed for closer. And though the pain is still there, its different. Because it the place worship comes. The “I don’t think I can” becomes, “Pappa, thank you for letting me.” An indescribable unfolding beautiful thing.
And then. From the waited rest, the weighted rest, comes power. And the next stage of labor comes, delivery. And with it, a phenomenal discovery. There is no pushing, just releasing. Four or five empowered breaths ignite the flow from inside to out. No travail, just travel. This “method” is called laboring down. The hebrew word for down, ‘yarad’ means “to come”. Perfect.
Always give yourself fully to the work (worship) of the Lord, because you know your labor (serving) for Him is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 16:1
We all go through labor, for we all carry precious things He has given us. Precious things that grow as the world waits and we watch over. And then contractions begin. You know them well. A mad month comes and with it, comes a ship in every port of your world with news. Like unwanted guests with trunks full of disappointment, devastation and defeat. The mail comes when your dance card is already full and you need to RSVP to the other invitations. You get to attend all the events. Some are parties, some are not. You know, those days when the happening already before you feels like more than you can handle and something else happens. Contractions. With a covenant to bring forth what you have known was there, but can’t see. Yet. It’s on its way to your arms. You want to push and Pappa only says, “breathe”.
It is then that the call to worship comes. When we get to thank Him for what is on the way. Thank Him that we got to receive it, carry it and are so near delivering it. Before we hold it, we uphold Him, because we beheld Him every moment along the way. We leave toil and enter tarry.
He longs and we linger in a place we didn’t think we could stay. But we choose to remain, to dwell, to wait, to rest. We lie beneath a blanket of trust and upon a pillow of hope. Peace comes and puts everything in order. And what another intends for travail, becomes triumph. And our arms are full.
Let Pappa reveal to you something you have been trying to “push” for that He want to “labor down”. A place you are toiling in, instead of worshipping through. Let Him reveal to you the difference in the fruit of the two, where your work has been in vain and where your rest has borne much. Journal all.
Journal the words to your “song” of worship when peace comes
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