God As Midwife

This is the concluding paragraph from a piece Becca posted on Adriel Booker’s blog.

If our mothers had named the Holy One, would God have firstly been midwife, continually welcoming new life in even the most excruciating circumstances?  I have never found God absent in my darkest nights, even when the pain has threatened to swallow me, even when I’ve wished that I would die because the future felt too chaotic.  When my heart was utterly broken, when my body was tangled unconscious, when I bled out my first baby and was separated from my firstborn after birth, even when I’ve been in the middle of a painful conflict with a trusted friend.  God has always stayed close, putting pressure on my lower back, whispering truth to my inconsolable heart, hands covered in my blood, tears falling with my own.  She hasn’t been in control of or responsible for my pain but always present, always welcoming the most possible good, the healing, the new.

This is breathtaking and beautiful.  In the context of the life of my church, right now, at this moment, it was something I needed, and it was something I shared today as part of our look at female images of God in celebration and recognition Mother’s Day.

I want to say more about this, and it will probably be a podcast.  But someone asked me last week how we hold on to the promise that God is working all things out to our good when we experience so much bad.  (There’s a lot of physical sickness right now in the church, specifically cancer.)  Becca’s words were our answer. Thank you, Becca, and thank you, Adriel.



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