““Then we cried out to the Lord God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice and looked on our affliction and our labor and our oppression. So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and with an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders. He has brought us to this place and has given us this land, “a land flowing with milk and honey”; and now, behold, I have brought the firstfruits of the land which you, O Lord, have given me.’ “Then you shall set it before the Lord your God, and worship before the Lord your God. So you shall rejoice in every good thing which the Lord your God has given to you and your house, you and the Levite and the stranger who is among you.”
Deuteronomy 26:7-11 NKJV
Last week I sent my mother in law a verse, along with a short devotional thought, that I’ve been meditating on ever since:
I know it will be good to have this behind you and be on to next season. I thought of the 4 of us today during my devotional – “He brought us out from there in order to bring us in, to give us the land which He had sworn to [give] our fathers.’” Deuteronomy 6:23. He is moving us out to bring us into a position to fulfill His work in and through us.
As I was reading today’s passage, I was struck again at the thought of Him moving me OUT so He could move me IN, and I heard G-d’s whisper quietly to my soul: “oppression is just labor pain birthing you into a new season.”
As I look back at major transitions in our life, I’m amazed at how they DID feel like labor – uncomfortable, painful, scary, unsure, exhausting – yet on the other side of the transition, there have been times of great rejoicing – maybe not immediately, but the rejoicing always came.
When a child is born, people often say a mother has “amnesia” – she is somehow able to forget the painful experience in the afterglow of birth and would do it all over again. New parents are one of my favorite things to witness – the unadulterated JOY, the look of love plastered on weary faces as they gaze at one another and the baby in their arms is a beautiful site to behold. Every bit of pain, every moment of morning sickness, every ounce of sacrifice, worth it in that single moment when their baby is placed in their arms.
I’ve been privileged to birth babies both into heaven and into my arms. With Randal and Alathia, the experience above holds true – I forgot about the pain the moment they were in my arms. But when a child is lost to miscarriage, the grief is often silent and there’s no amnesia for the pain. While it may dull over time, they never fully leave your heart. I still hold my babies in my heart, wondering who they’d be today, and grieving that Alathia never experienced having a sister which has long been a desire of her heart. But even in the losses, there is rejoicing. It took me a long time to bring that offering to Him, and when I did, it was a true sacrifice, but rejoicing did come eventually.
It’s interesting to me that just as there are signs of physical labor, signs have always proceeded our major life transitions, and after 12 major moves, we’ve learned to pay attention. As I find myself in the afterglow of this most recent one, being intentional to take time to rest and recover, I’m reminded that being birthed into a new season can be painful, exciting, scary, exhausting, joyful, exhilarating, and grievous. And I’m reminded that there are good things ahead for us. May we be found rejoicing in the days ahead because He moved us out in order to bring us into a position to fulfill His work in and through us.
Father, thank You for the season of loving and serving the Purtell’s and thank You for your provision for them and for us. Thank You for preparing a place for us in this season. We trust Your hand to lead, position, and mature us. Give us hearts to receive all You have to teach us. You are good. Your leadership in my life is perfect and You can be trusted. Amen.
Daily Reading: Deuteronomy 24-27