Holy Week & Motherhood

I've thought about sharing my thoughts and heart about this topic for some time now. About nine months to be exact. Fear of what others will think, what I will say or how I will be perceived have kept me quiet. Until now. Until Holy Week.

"And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, 'Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me.'" 1 Corinthians 11:24

Palm Sunday, Passover, Good Friday, Easter - these days often bring to mind sermon titles, certain hymns, special services or new outfits to wear. This year, it means something different in my soul.

Do you see where Jesus says, "which is broken for you?" As a child, young adult, wife and woman, I always understood that He meant that His body, His fleshly, earthly body was broken, destroyed and demolished for us. That as part of this, we remember it in the act of communion. But, what if we could remember it in the physical, beyond a slice of bread, beyond a sip of a drink.

As a mother-to-be, this resonates so deeply within me. I'm going to put it out there - I never wanted to be pregnant. Of course, I wanted children. I wanted a baby in my arms. I wanted to raise up little disciples for Christ. I wanted to see my husband's face in that of his son. God put those desires in the depths of me for as long as I can remember, and I knew he would make it happen. But pregnancy? The breaking of my body? I didn't want that. I saw it as a means to an end. A journey to endure. A time frame that needed to be counted down. So, here I am, in my ninth month of pregnancy, with the biggest revelation I've had on this entire journey: I am willing to accept the broken body of Christ, without willingly giving up my body to be broken for His will and His new creations.

You might be confused by that statement. Perhaps thinking, "Margaret, you are doing it! You're pregnant right now!" Let me tell you, unless my heart is wholly surrendered to Him and His will, throwing away my selfish and fleshly desires, it is all in vain. My biggest fear in life is to live outside of God's will - and here I am - in the middle of walking out what He has called me to do, to be a mother, and I am kicking and screaming like a little girl who can't have that extra cookie (because we know I love me some cookies right now). To have never suffered from body image issues to having the worst body image complex I could have imagined in a span of three months (when the lovely physical "breaking of my body" we can call it) appeared on my flesh. Flesh! Do I even hear myself? Flesh - the thing that is not eternal. The thing that Jesus himself broke on a cross, covered in blood and thorns and sword wounds and lashes and beatings.

I was pregnant during Christmas, enjoying the wondrous ideas of what Mary was thinking when she was pregnant. Wondering what she went through, how she felt and what a miraculous experience it must have been (because, of course, the mother of Jesus had a perfect pregnancy and delivering in a stable doesn't sound that bad in the stories). Sometimes we start there. With the birth of Jesus. Let's start with Easter. The death of Jesus. His body was completely broken and shattered for us. His mother's body was broken to bring Him into this world so that He could be broken for us. This wasn't an accident. This was God showing us how much he cares for us. How far He will go to make sure that we understand the unending, undying and forgiving love that He wants us to soak and relish in.

So, where does that leave me and my fleshly self? In awe. In tears. In admiration. My Jesus died to give me life. To give my son, who's kicking away inside of my body, life. So, my "broken body?" I would do this everyday, all day, forever, if it means that I get a daily reminder when I look in the mirror at my fleshly scars covering my body and extra skin in new places that there are hollow scars in the hands of a Savior who died to let me become a mother, for His glory.

While I am excited about the arrival of this new creation God is making within my body, something better has happened. A broken body is alive. And we are all new creations.

"A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, 'Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.'” John 20:26