You know that moment that you hear about in textbooks, when a mother’s right about to finish giving birth and decides that she’s had enough? “It’s too hard, I’m done pushing!” she screams, and outside the delivery room, in our classrooms, we laugh. ‘That’s stupid,’ we’re all thinking, because that thing’s coming out. It’s got to come out. We know biology, we know nature, and we know there’s 100 reasons why that baby’s not staying inside.
I bet the doctor and nurses chuckle inside the delivery room too. Internally of course, because there’s a sweaty, exhausted 9 months pregnant woman in front of them. But they’ve done this enough times to know that mama’s resolve hasn’t quite stopped a baby from coming out before. She’s powerful, but not that powerful.
What’s inside of you has got to get out.
Imagine this is a new nurse’s first time in a situation when mom decides she’s done. She’s read textbooks that say it’s not going to end here, but I bet this nurse is looking around the room to the more experienced people to see how they handle mama. I bet she’s looking for quiet signs of amusement, listening for a doctor’s patient encouragement, watching for any signs that tell her this is going to be okay.
She’s read the books, but now she’s living life outside of the textbook. It’s practice time. That nurse is looking to the people in the room around her for hope that she can handle what she’s never lived.
We’re living in a world full of new days, new joys, and new pains. In life we come up against the end of ourselves more times than we can count, and there we find ourselves in the nurse and the soon to be new mama.
It’s all good in the end. If it’s not good, it’s not the end.
We find ourselves pregnant with potential, with hope, with a dream, and we have tended that thing to heaven and back. We’ve chosen meals specifically to nourish it, we’ve protected it from a host of vices, and occasionally we’ll come to a place where we get really, really tired while carrying it. Occasionally, we’ve pushed so hard and waited so long that the thought of continuing for another moment without the end in sight feels impossible.
I know that feeling. The urge to quit will feel the most pressing right before your precious bundle meets the light of day.
But you owe yourself more than that. And that thing needs out.
The world around you needs you to keep going. We need you, what you have inside of you.
You’ll find yourself in the new nurse when a new day brings you into a place where years of study meets urgent practicality. When the problems you’ve studied your way around for years explode into colorful reality in front of you, that’s when we really need other doctors in the room. We need people who are way smarter, wildly different, and have seen an end we haven’t. We need hope that the end is coming, and that it’s all going to be alright.
We need to know what we’ve never done can be done.
Friend, if you’re still in the game, you’re winning. Way to not give up! I’m praying that hope finds you, encouragement surrounds you, and God puts people on every side who’ve done what you haven’t.