"YOU'RE 40 WEEKS PREGNANT--YOUR BABY IS DUE!"
Those were the words that greeted me from gmail this morning at 8:03am. According to babycenter.com this day should be going very differently than it actually is. I SHOULD be HUGE, swollen, uncomfortable, wearing an unsightly Kirstie Alley-esque mumu and CROCS, shlepping around the house with decaf coffee in hand, watching Ellen and laugh-crying hyterically. I SHOULD be answering a call from an anxiety ridden, frazzled, hyper-active, on-point, go-mode husband every five minutes about how I'm doing, if anything is different, if my water has broken and even though I'll feign mild irritation with a 'Sweetheart, I'm FINE. I promise you will be the first to know. I'll call you if anything happens", I would really be feeling like the most attended to, loved woman on the planet. I SHOULD be packing and re-packing a bag (or ten for those of you who have seen how I pack), checking things off a list, calling my mom one more time just to hear her birth stories again in case I missed a useful detail the first 7,000 times, calling the hospital just to make sure they didn't go out of business in the last 24 hours, second guessing our ENTIRE birth plan and reading the side effects of epidurals and recovery advice for c-sections, uh-gain, just in case.
None of those things are happening because I am not 40 weeks pregnant. My baby is not due. She was born into my hands exactly 253,447 minutes ago which is why I am instead sitting at a desk in a big, fancy office building, starting on my fifth cup of regular coffee because drinking water on a freezing day like today is really just not an option, answering phone calls, checking emails, scheduling travel, reading memos, filing reports, chit-chatting with co-workers about random nothingness, trolling facebook for interesting comments on last night's awards, and of course, now, we can add staring at the above sentence with a blank look on my face to the tasks of the day.
It's that word. DUE. It's just irritating. And it doesn't actually make any sense whatsoever. According to Webster it means two exact opposite things simultaneously which is just totally ridiculous.
Definition #1. A person's right; what is owed to them
Definition #2: A person's obligatory payment or fee; what is owed from them
You mean to say 'I OWE' and 'I AM OWED' can both be true? Isn't that considered a double negative? Who do I owe? What do I owe? Who owes me? What do they owe me? When do they owe it to me? Can we drill down to some specifics please Mr. Webster because this entire idea isn't really working for me.
It isn't really working for me because it isn't true. At least when it comes to God and plans and purposes and events and life and death and everything in between. So ok, back to, it isn't true.
And of course, like the predictable Christian I am, my thoughts turn to a strong, powerful, wealthy, middle aged man thousands of years ago who was said to be a 'good man-his character spotless, his integrity unquestioned. He deliberately avoided evil in all his affairs and believed in God so much that he sought to honor Him in all things'. This man had 10 children and thousands of animals, a multitude of capable staff, successful businesses, million dollar properties and a seemingly loving wife. As an effect of the amazingly good life he had, people considered him blessed by God. Which is why, when he began to lose those blessings, one by one, people questioned his faith and surmised that he must have done something to deserve it. His children were killed in a storm. "God must be punishing you", they said. His livestock was stolen, attacked and slaughtered, "Ask for forgiveness, change your life, turn back to God", they said. His wife abandoned him, his friends challenged him, his body began to fail him, "Curse God and die", they said as if there was nothing to be done.
And if this man, Job, had considered God to be a vending machine like most of us do; dispensing blessings like candy to anyone and everyone who had worked hard enough and saved long enough and prayed loud enough and worshipped often enough and been good-enough to be able to 'purchase' a chocolate covered miracle for $1.75, he might have done just that because there's nothing more frustrating than putting your quarters in the slot, expecting a honey bun and getting something else or even worse, getting nothing in return. And I've seen how we do. We curse and bang on the door to see if we can shake lose the missing blessing. We call the office manager or the company and demand a refund. We hit 'return' over and over and over like trained monkeys and then shove our greedy 'obviously deserving' little hands in the return slot to see if by chance justice has been served and our money dutifully returned. And then, after all avenues explored, all options attempted, we realize defeat and with slumped shoulders trudge back to our desks; exhausted, starving, defeated and empty handed, swearing on our great grandmother's grave to never do that again, EVER.
We curse. We turn our backs.
And then something awesome happens.
And we raise our hands and sing songs about rainbows and tell people how blessed we are.
Until we're not.
God is not a vending machine. His M.O. is not quid pro quo. Something given for something taken. He does not desire my pain to accomplish His purposes. He is not in the business of dealing short hands and dead babies to force people to their knees in worship of Him and to become worthy of His blessing.
In fact, He makes it very clear who can consider themselves blessed. And thankfully I don't see a price tag or a list of names included.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God
Blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
I used to think, 'Alright, alright, alright!' If I could just accomplish a few of these I would be way ahead of the game and a waterfall of blessings would be headed my way and the gates to the kingdom of Heaven would be THROWN open for me. Or at least left cracked open so I can squeeze through. And then I realized something weird and I'm no theologian so don't quote me but it spoke to my heart. The first and last 'causes' if you will; being poor in spirit and being persecuted for the sake of righteousness both have the same effect; possessing the kingdom of heaven. It's a LOOP! This is not a list of singular directives given and if I get 6 out of the 8 of them right most of the time I'm THAT closer to the end-game of heaven. They ARE the cause AND effect. The kingdom of heaven, the dominion and reign of God happens BETWEEN them, WITHIN them as we travel THROUGH them. Stay with me.
When I am poor in spirit I am empty, hollow, a joy-less, life-less shell of the me I could be. Feeling this way, being this way is excruciatingly painful and causes me to howl, literally howl in grief. Heart wrenching, body racking, swollen faced, snot running freely, choking, wailing, unstoppable, incontrollable sorrow. Sorrow like that breaks a person, breaks them absolutely in two. The heart melts into a puddle on the floor, the walls come down, the stoicism ceases, the mask removed as the heart softens and becomes gentle as it lands with a thud at the very lowest point there is. And when your heart is beaten and broken, lying on the floor, the only place to look is up, to the top of the moutain from where you fell and you begin to search for a way to get back there. You look for answers and those answers change you. You begin to open your eyes to the others that are at the bottom too. You see yourself in their pain, their broken hearts. And they see you. And as you hold hands and sit and rock and cry there at the bottom you begin to learn what loving another really looks like. And His sacrifice makes sense. And all this compassion and love and understanding fills your heart and gives you strength enough to begin to climb. But this time it's different, as you pass other travelers on the road, headed up or headed down, you see them through a lense of grace, of mercy. You don't demand or judge or ridicule or climb over them or stand on their broken back to advance yourself. Love is guiding you now, not fear. There is not room for both in a heart that has been purified by pain. And it's only a pure heart such as this that has the ability to pursue peace; with itself, with others, with God. But peacemakers are rarely understood by those who aren't there yet, those who are still going down fighting. The unshakable calm that they posesses is frightening. Others want that so badly that when they feel they can't have it, they try and make sure others don't either. They lash out and they try and hurt. They persecute. And in that persecution, our spirits are crushed and emptied, our pain, once again becomes palpable and we face, yet again, the choice to pursue a journey of blessing or not.
I'm not having a baby today. I may not have a baby ever. And the idea of that is so sad that it takes my breath away. But my God is not a vending machine God. He does not dispense or withhold blessings based on how I act toward Him or how well I do in Christianity 101. He has paved the road of blessing with His blood and if I choose to walk it with him, no loss or gain can take away the name He has given me.
"{They} will stand up and call her BLESSED". Proverbs 31:28
