I remember the struggle during my first pregnancy. September 11, 2001. The due date of my son was just three months away.
What are we thinking bringing a child into this world? Into this brokenness? I pondered, feeling inadequate. Foolish. Fearful.
But he came, and his sister followed two years later. And brokenness still rages outside our home. It rages inside our own walls sometimes. But redemption is big. And my babies are a part of it. Already.
Thousands of years ago, Christ’s ancestor carried twin boys. Rebekah was no fool. She had heard stories of pregnancies, but she knew — she knew — something bigger was going on within her womb.
She didn’t run to the midwife. Or to her friends who’d tell her what she wanted to hear. Or to the wisdom of the ancient world.
No, she knocked on the Door of Wisdom. And, oh my goodness, He answered her and trusted her with news of Israel’s future. Trusted her, a woman, a pregnant woman living in the ancient Middle East.
My God — He’s so counter-cultural. Even back then.
But the children she carried struggled and fought with each other until, in great pain, she exclaimed, “What is going on? Why is this happening to me?” In frustration she inquired of the Eternal One why this civil war was occurring inside of her. “Two nations are growing inside of your womb, and the two peoples will be divided in the future. One will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger. Genesis 25:22, 23
Heavy stuff for a pregnant woman to ponder — two children, struggling against each other already. And the future looked all the more complicated.
Bless her. Bless Rebekah’s little hormonal, emotional, nesting heart. Her present struggle foreshadowed even greater drama and family tension and messiness.
(Take a moment to consider: the Eternal Rescuer came from this family line. From this shame.)
And I want to escape the drama of today, but He pulls me back to it. I was made in His image. I was made to redeem. I was made to restore. Made to know Him who calls me His own.
Yet I run again to idols to help make sense of it all. I grab books off the shelf and read man’s self-help wisdom. I scan social media for tips on creating, and restoring, and making beauty in the world. I try to fix the messiness by seeking that which isn’t so threatening. But really, I’m just disengaging with what should truly hold my attention.
“I am the gate; whoever enters through Me will be liberated, will go in and go out, and will find pastures. The thief approaches with malicious intent, looking to steal, slaughter, and destroy;I came to give life with joy and abundance.” John 10:9,10
So I follow Rebekah to the Door. To the Giver of Answers. To the Giver of Peace when there are no answers.
I don’t even have to knock.