What mother would say, after hours of exhausting labor, when she’s nearly ready to push the baby out into the world, “This is too much. I’m giving up”?
What marathon runner would decide to sit down yards away from the finish line after enduring nearly 26 miles of roadway under their hot, tired feet?
What painter would visualize and paint for hours and then leave the painting unfinished, a portion of the canvas still white and empty?
If you’ve gone that far, you may as well keep going until you finish! The mother definitely has to finish. There’s no way that baby can stay inside of her and survive. There’s no turning back once that process is begun. The way she keeps going when she is weary or hurting is to think of the newborn baby she will soon hold, the joy of bringing a life into the world, the pride of surviving childbirth and joining the ranks of millions of women throughout history who have done the same thing. When these thoughts surface in her heart she resolves to lean into it and get through to the end, to the wonderful result of seeing her new son or daughter.
A cancer patient braves harsh chemotherapy and radiation because they see through the nausea, tiredness and long days to the hope of being cancer-free, of killing all those unwanted cells and feeling healthy again. Would they take a few treatments and then stop? Continue reading
I realize that my child needs me but in different ways and definitely different doses. Remembering how I thought and acted at that age has been helping me tremendously. I remember being so eager to get out and get away from home, not because I didn’t love my mom and dad, but I was tired of that routine and ready for something new. The new and unknown was exciting and full of possibility. I would be creating my own milestones, making decisions wise and foolish, having adventures, doing my own thing. No sister and brother to contend with, no parents to determine my curfew or how I spent my time. It was a heavenly time between being home with them and the pressures of real life that would follow college. Freedom!
Time for an emptying of the mind from the last few days worth of ponderings and thoughts:
In an email conversation with my dad this morning, he reminded me of a time that was tough in my mom’s life (physically at least). She had all three of us by C-section and shortly after my little brother was born she had to have her gall bladder removed! This was back when they didn’t do the tiny little belly button incisions. She was hurting. My grandmother, her mother-in-law, told her during that time, “When you’re hurting, somebody needs you.” This took my mom aback. Someone needs me? I’m hurting here! I’m the one who just had two surgeries almost back to back. Nonetheless, during my mom’s hospital stay she encountered another patient, a lady who was hurting in her heart, not just her body. God used Mom to encourage and bless that lady. It may not have happened if Mom’s heart hadn’t been opened to the possibility by grandma’s wise words.
There’s someone in our family who over the last few years has drifted away and become very quiet, going through some tough times. I admit, we didn’t try hard enough to stay in touch, to care, to reach out during those times. I’m ashamed of that. I’ve asked forgiveness for that from this person but am not making much headway. In the last year or so we’ve tried harder to get in touch, send emails, call, reach out, getting no response. I’ve had dreams in which our family and this person are reunited and reconcile all the differences. I’m hoping that’s one of those dreams that becomes a “deja vu” moment later in life. You know when you have a deja vu moment and think “I swear I’ve dreamed this before.” Does that happen to you?
I think I eventually convinced her that although she didn’t know at the age of 4 what she would need to know 15-20 years down the road it was okay. She wasn’t supposed to. It would come later. I tried to help her see that growing up was fun and good, that she would like it and that it’s just what happens naturally to all of us.
This morning I had the thought that if we could get a higher altitude view of life, especially in the moments when we’re mired down in the weeds or mud of a tough circumstance, it would make it easier to go on. Imagine walking through a late summer corn field when the corn’s taller than you are, following someone who is cutting a path or design in the field. From the ground’s perspective it would all look very much the same: rustling rows of green corn stalks as far as the eye could see. If you could fly up above the field and look down, however, you’d see the design taking shape. You might even have an “Aha!” moment, smiling and saying, “I get it now.”
Along the Narrow Path 