Time to Give Birth

My friend is the mother of two beautiful daughters and author of a book called Hello Nineveh: A Jonah Journey. That means she knows about motherhood, purpose and, as the title suggests, running from purpose. But a time came when she stopped running and submitted to the will of God for her life. She likened the start of her journey to the process of pregnancy, when there's great excitement and anticipation.

But a woman does not remain pregnant forever. There comes a time when she must bring forth this child, otherwise things will become detrimental for her and the baby. Her analogy challenged me significantly.

I am guilty of this too. But when I think about how my life was impacted by children of God who chose to bear fruit, why shouldn't I do the same?

Here's one instance.

The senior pastor at my church had a vision. He wanted to produce a hymnal with classic hymns and choruses for our congregation. He established a team to research and compile the songs (the internet was not invented as yet), and enlisted my grandfather's help to mass print them at his printery. You can imagine that this was no small task. But his vision was realised, and soon there were hymnals everywhere. They became so common that they were no longer special. And for what I could not understand at the time as a child, we sang from them every single Sunday. Where was the joy in these boring hymns?

But as I grew, something changed. I found myself singing the words such as "O love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong...", because they were like warm fires in the winters of life. I choke up whenever I sing these words, "so I'll cling to the old rugged cross..." because every day I am face-to-face with my selfish heart and overwhelmed by God's relentless love and grace. And whenever I find myself weighed down with cares and sadness, these words creep up in my heart: "when peace like a river attendeth my way..." I realised how much I grew to love hymns!

So I did a frantic search for a hymnal. It was so difficult to find one because the technology of projecting hymns on a screen replaced the need for physical hymnals over time. Then one day, my mother found one. The brown discoloration on the outer pages reminded me of dried leaves, but when I looked inside, I saw my grandfather's name, penned in his own handwriting. It did not matter how old this book was. I found a treasure.

Years later, the very thing I once overlooked became a prized possession.

Suppose my pastor did not give birth to this vision? Suppose he always felt God leading him to do it, told others he had the idea, but never did anything? Suppose my grandfather did not utilize his resources to explosively expand the work of the kingdom? When we obey the prompts of the Holy Spirit, we may never see the result of our work or service. It might not make sense to others until years after. We might feel like it will not make a difference to anyone, but we should give birth anyways.

Dear reader, I'm speaking to you as much as I'm speaking to myself. Launch that blog. Publish that book. Create and build that Youtube channel. Support that ministry. Speak up for that child. You know what God has been calling you to do. Don't walk around pregnant any longer. It's time to give birth.