Vol. 17 No. 06 | February 10, 2014
I had been thinking it all week then a friend sent an email (all the way from Jerusalem) expressing my feelings perfectly: Sorry for pain, waiting for joy.
(DISCLAIMER: Any reference to my personal pain and discomfort in this article is not to be compared to what our daughter and her husband have been experiencing, nor that of any other mother who has gone through childbirth. I don’t want any mothers coming after me saying, “Pain? You don’t know pain! I’ll show you pain!”)
Going through the pain and waiting for the joy has been our story for the past several days as we have awaited the arrival of our granddaughter. Each day we thought and hoped that this would be the day. Each day we responded to texts and emails and phone calls requesting updates with the same message, “Not yet”. This Proverb has been playing and replaying in my mind: Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12, NIV)
For those of us waiting (waiting could possibly be better translated “hovering,” “staring,” and possibly “driving the mother-to-be crazy”) the waiting has been inconvenient. No physical pain for us. Away from home? Yes. Pain? No. Difficult? Yes, at times. Our part of the waiting has involved praying, cooking, offering to do anything that could be done, trying not to get in the way, and trying not to make their waiting more difficult.
At times the prayer has literally been a request that the pain of labor would begin. “Lord, let her labor begin.” Then, in our minds we say, “Because we are ready for the joy of seeing and holding and loving this baby girl.” Somewhere in there is sorrow for the pain, but honestly the real desire is for the joy to come soon. Some dad, huh? “Please, Lord, let my daughter hurt so we can experience joy.”
We pray similar prayers in other areas of our lives, don’t we?
Father, I want the joys of a new job and increased salary, and I know that there will be pain as I pursue it. There is the trouble of putting out resumes, saying goodbye to co-workers, possibly moving to a new location, and the discomfort that goes with a transition. I’m sorry for the pain, and I will wait for the joy.
Father, I long for the time when I see my son transformed into the image of Your son, but I know for him to get there he must experience the growing pains that go with it, the testing, the faith struggles, and all the circumstances that produce that Christ-like character. I’m sorry for the pain, and I will wait for the joy.
Father, we want our marriage to be strong and healthy and an example for others to see and follow, and we know that getting there will be painful and difficult. Tough choices. Serious decisions. There must be changes in our lifestyle. There may be changes in our friendships. We are sorry for the pain, and we will wait for the joy.
Father, we want our church to grow and become a light to our part of the world, and we know that growth requires change and change produces the pain of moving from our zones of comfort. We are sorry for the pain, and we will wait for the joy.
We do not always understand how this transformation from pain to joy takes place. Maybe that is the reason when we speak of the birth of a child we refer to it as a miracle. As painful as it is to admit, I suspect that is the way it should be. We do not understand because we are not equipped to understand. Another passage that has been playing and replaying in my mind all week is from Isaiah:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever.” (Isaiah 55:8-13, NIV)
Father, we are sorry for the pain Your Son endured to redeem us from our sins, but we are filled with joy because You waited for us to acknowledge and to accept Your free gift.
Father, as we seek to follow You we are sorry for the pain, but long for the joy of knowing You.
Tom
By the way, as I post this article (12:45 a.m.) we are at the hospital waiting. The pain is almost over. The joy we have been waiting for will soon be realized. Norah Lee Howard was born at 3:41 AM.
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