Sacred Moment Monday

The darkness seems to trickle through my bloodstream. The shaky, achy jolts of anxious energy disrupt my being and throw a dark shadow over my Monday.

Can I get a do-over? Go to bed and start again. Why this pulsating disruption today? 

I hate the days when I feel outside myself.  No matter my attempts, it feels like the true me, Susie-at-peace-in-Christ, has left the building and the remnants of the fearful darkness only remain.

Anxiety?

Spiritual attack?

Forewarning?

Whatever it is, when it takes hold, I'm brought to my knees.

Reminded of this earthly vessel, this broken world, a life in process in need of grace. 

Do-over Tuesday comes, as does the news...Pre-eclampsia, sister admitted to hospital, inducing labor.

I stroke her head, this little sister of mine. Her little girl words to mom anytime she was afraid, "Will a sister be there?"

I'm here, sister. I'm here.

I see the ache. The worry and the longing. Bring them through, dear Jesus, prepare the way for this little one, both these little ones.

For a sister is always a sister.

The night wears on, and the contractions come one minute, two minute, breathe...10, 9, 8...

Still not time.

Hubby stays and breathes and coaches and prays. 

"I will greatly increase you pains in childbearing, with pain you will give birth to children." (Genesis 3:16a)

Oh that garden, oh that Eve, and oh the Daughters of Eve. A curse, yes, an invitation, more.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

The pain an invitation to the beauty.

But. It. Doesn't. Feel. Like. It.

The pain seems bigger and unconquerable. The curse confusing.  He cursed us to draw us? Years of fighting it, avoiding the ache, the barren hole of needing. But the contractions come and at some point we choose to submit (or not).  Finding home in interdependence, learning to lean into another's strength, bearing through heartache to know His heart.

To face the helplessness, the uncertainty, and the vulnerability of any given life but to receive the gift anyway.  To give thanks, to remember, to face the IS and have faith for the WILL BE.

And the L I F E comes, however it comes, it comes. Sometimes gradually other times unexpected, but oh, dear Daughters of Eve, it comes.

Pushing and struggling and not-believing-good-could-come-out-of-this, it comes....she comes.

For hindsight, looking back in, is most often clearer than the bearing through.  

Miserable Mondays give birth to miracle Wednesdays? 

And though contractions still come, the reminder still here, the L I F E takes over.