I have always had this belief that suffering made love so much deeper. That pain and doing things the hard way, made the joy so much stronger. That passion was built out of great longing. I believed it so much that I almost always (not consciously of course) took the hard path. I wanted the depths of love and passion, so I chose suffering and strife, when I so could have chosen the easier way.
What was it in me that made me believe that I needed to push myself, see how much I could endure? Why do I feel more worthy when I'm struggling, and less worthy when things just fall into place?
I was sticking to my belief, until someone challenged me. Someone asked me the hard questions. "What do you get out of it? "What are you trying to prove?" "To Whom?" "To Yourself?" "Why do you think anything of value has a cost to be paid, born out of great struggle?"
And that's been rattling around in my head. I was being challenged on my belief, and I didn't have the solid answer. Until now. The aha moment caught me off guard and changed my perspective. My aha moment came as my youngest child's birthday approached. I was reflecting back and reminiscing about the day she was born, and something clicked.
When you are about to deliver your first baby, you have no idea what to expect. Every pain, tinge, flutter and ache, feels like this is the time. Or is it? Usually not. Three trips to the hospital declaring "I was in labor," and three trips being sent home. Nine days overdue, I went into labor at 3 am. I arrived at the hospital groggy, cranky and sure this baby would be arriving any minute. The pain was horrible. I was 3 whole centimeters dilated. What???!!!
I informed the nurse for the 80th time, that I was NOT one of those crazy people who wanted to have natural childbirth, and could I please have my epidural. She smiled, (again) and I wanted to rip that smile off her condescending face, (again) as she informed me, AGAIN, that I had to be further along in the process or it would stop my labor. So, I patently (right) waited another five minutes before repeating my demands.
It didn't matter that it was the final game of the Portland Trail Blazers game for the title, although it entertained everyone else. All i knew is that I was suffering as no woman ever had, and I was going mad! Twenty two hours later and I was ready to push. But not before they turned down my God loving, magic juice, epidural. Evidently it is necessary to feel every horrible child-birthing pain in the last few hours. I assumed this was a biblical rule, after-all God said after the fall of man that women would experience pain in childbirth.
Well, I pushed, and pushed and, two hours later they told me I needed an emergency C-section. I was devastated. I felt robbed. The good news was that my epidural was turned up full throttle and ahhhhh, I was back. Back to be mentally alert to feel the cutting through my abdominal muscles, cutting through my uterus, pulling and tugging. I thought I was being torn and shredded. But alas, there before me arrived a perfect, beautiful, sweet little boy. He was everything to me. In the weeks that followed, everything hurt. From the staples to the disolveable stitches that worked their way out from the inside. Sitting, walking, sleeping, laying, everything was excruciating! But it was so worth it! I had this beautiful baby, and I loved him immensely.
Ten years later, four babies later, and waiting for the grand entrance of baby #5, I had no reason to believe that things would be any different this go round. But it was.
My doctor had planned my inducement a week before my due date. So, I arrived at the hospital well rested with curled hair, makeup, and even donning lipstick. (my mom would be so proud) While getting me all settled and hooked up to all the monitors, the nurse asked me, "Do you want your epidural before we get started?" She asked this casually like, "Would you like me to fluff your pillows?" My eyes grew big as saucers, but I wasn't falling for this trickery. I knew from the other four babies, you can only get your epidural after a few hours of painful labor. So, instead I said, desperately trying to hide my excitement, "Seriously, I can do that?" She laughed and said, "Honey, you popped four babies out, there ain't no stopping this one." So, I ordered a double, as if I was getting a cocktail quick, before they could card me.
And so there I was for three hours, watching TV, reading 5 chapters of my book, still with perfectly curled hair and smudgeless lipstick. I was kinda bored. Finally I said, "I think I gotta poop." Well, the nurse's eyes got real wide and she said we better have a look at that baby. And then she announced, "I see the head!" My doctor was paged but I was told he may be a while. I decided to wait for him. I mean it really didn't feel like I was about to have a baby. After half and hour I said, "okay, well I guess I don't want to wait." Another doctor was called in the room, and she said, "Okay, push!" I did. Once. And there she was. My perfectly beautiful precious baby girl. I loved her with all of my soul. I held her, marveled at her and for weeks I would say, "Someone pinch me, I can't believe I just had a baby!"
From baby #1 to baby #5, the contrast was dramatic. But there was no contrast in how much I loved and adored both those babies. If I was a person who had made the belief that anything worth having had to be hard, or that to experience great love, one had to suffer great pan, then this very event shattered that belief.
In my quest to discover why I felt I had to do things the hard way, and learn the hard way, I leaned into God and let him expand my beliefs. I thought God would say something profound, something that would melt my heart and justify my past choices in life. But his words to me were, "My dear precious child, get out of the way." Pride is a major stumbling block in my life. It keeps me from doing what God wants me to do. And it prevents me from learning what God wants me to learn. I needed to acknowledge that God is in control. So now I'm saying, Lord, I'm going to move out of the way and let you be God.
I don't have to learn the hard way. I can live and learn God's way. I am yielding to His plan. I am learning to have a teachable spirit and seek good advice from Godly people. Sometimes my path will be hard. Sometimes I am meant to struggle. But when I let God chose my path, it will always be the best path for me. And He will be there with me every step of the way.