If you are a regular reader, you've probably figured out how hard it is for me to write during pregnancy. As I round the corner for the final month or so, I find my brain thinking only of what needs to be done for the baby, before the baby comes, or during the labor and delivery that I have shortly to endure. It's hard work to force myself to really think. It's hard work to make myself concerned over my own walk with the Lord and my struggle with sin.So naturally, you would assume that pregnancy is an impediment to living well and doing right. I don't think so. I think of it as rehearsal.
Something my pastor says sometimes has caused me to think. "It's not starting well that is the hard part. It's finishing well." What he means is that it is somewhat easier to serve the Lord and work with fervor in His name when you possess the energy of youth. It's harder when you are exhausted from life, when your body has worn down and you have more aches and pains than passions. I think women, at least women like me that have a hard time with pregnancy, have a sort of warm-up for old age.
Sort of a weird thought for today, I suppose. I think it came to me as I began to notice that I was groaning and waddling and tiring out as easily as the ninety-year-old woman who sits next to me in choir. But as hard as it is to imagine living this way with no end in sight, no birth of a baby to free me from the physical toll being taken on my body, I'm inspired by her determination. After all, she's still in choir. She's not sitting at home waiting to die. She's living for the Lord as best as she can no matter her situation.
I guess if she can do it for the long run, I can do it for a few more weeks.
