by Lori Archer Raible
The fact Mary and Joseph navigated the miracle of birth without a professional team, birthing suite and an epidural is beyond me. Childbirth is insane, proof of God and proof we are human after all. Expecting God’s delivery is a wait like no other. If you want to know about Advent, talk to a pregnant lady.
The young women of our church gather weekly. By various paths, most are mothers or hope to be. We know about waiting. Just as the turkey-stuffed-in-laws leave, we face this truth: exhausted or not, the baby is coming.
Pastoral Care 101: Pregnant women don’t want your expert advice.
“You must be having twins?” Just one.
“Are you due tomorrow?” Sadly, no.
“You should walk more, eat less, rest more, worry less. Doula? Breastfeeding? Tired? Just wait. You’re calling her what? You. Look. So. Cute. Can I touch you?”
Relax. Enjoy these last precious weeks.
Poorly planned and physically ridiculous, the last days of pregnancy prove God must be a man. Even worse is the emotional cocktail of expectation.
Sheer panic, as one transitions from abstract fantasy to reality. “This is going to hurt.” Resentment. “He can see his toes; I look like an alien.” Unspeakable fear. “What if … ” All wrapped in a hope so desperate we dare not whisper it.
Advent is a time of envelope-licking, party-throwing, present-buying, elf-shelving madness. One woman prepares her cards in September, Santa hats and all. I don’t blame her. Those cards prove our fantasies of joy and hygiene can momentarily align with reality. The expression may be misguided but the intention is genuine. We gratefully mail them with a desire to connect.
Then the church starts yapping about waiting.
The lie, “We understand,” slides smoothly, as we sigh deeply. “How do we offer a better way, Christ’s way?” Extra study, music, worship, fellowship, alternative giving, home visits, and homeless visits … the pageant.
Relax, enjoy these precious weeks. Breathing. Pacing. Hoping.
Hoping. It. Could. Just. Be. Over.
The nausea is almost as bad as coming to terms with reality. Planning Christmas and experiencing Christmas are dramatically different, and aligning the two is tricky.
Just before Christmas the women gather. Ironically, two are labor and delivery nurses. One works in the NICU. I asked, “What is it like before for the baby comes?”
“We expect complications. Our team is on high-alert waiting to respond. Each with responsibilities, we try to prepare for every possibility. Then we hold our breath and pray.”
“What do you pray?”
“For the baby to get here alive.”
As long as the baby gets here, the church can stop worrying about how perfectly the pregnancy goes. We will prepare faithfully because our church leaders are a team of NICU specialists. Who needs a fancy birthing suite as long as we engage in high-quality, authentic church? Deep theology expressed in layers of integrated practice; nothing wasted, eyes on the star, feet on the ground. Breathing. Pacing. Hoping. Ready.
“How do you feel once the baby comes?” I asked.
Relieved.
LORI ARCHER RAIBLE is associate pastor of Selwyn Avenue Presbyterian Church. She is currently involved with the planning of a conference for newly ordained clergy, Trent@Montreat, and is passionately engaged in the leadership of NEXT Church. She and her husband, Rob, live in Charlotte, North Carolina. They have two children, Joe (9) and Maeve (8).
