Let Love Be Your Motivation, Even in the Midst of Pain
I had never experienced anything like it.
I was in labor with my second child. Naively, I thought that the second labor would be like the first—some pain, a doctor visit to check progress, a trip to the hospital, admittance and assessment, epidural, baby. In my mind, I never entertained the idea that the second time might not mirror the first. But here I was, moving through the phases of labor quickly—too quickly, in fact. Before I could even get my mind around the level of pain I was experiencing, I heard the words I didn’t want to hear: “You can’t get an epidural now, honey. It’s time for you to push!”
What?
Through pain I never knew existed, my body transitioned. It showed how strong and capable it was, and after a bit of pushing, that pain resulted in an absolutely beautiful baby boy. Yes, I still remembered the intensity and duration. Yes, I still remembered the sounds that came from somewhere deep in my gut. Yes, I still remembered the overwhelming nature of the entire event. All that remembering faded slightly with every newborn coo and cry. Though difficult, the pain yielded a love in my life that was total, uncompromising, fiercely protected.
Out of the greatest physical pain came the great love that a mother has for her son.
Pain isn’t always physical, though.
Our family had a string of losses during a five-year period. The last loved one we lost was my grandfather. A man of deep love, gentle ways, and to-the-point humor, he was mighty to my boys. From their earliest memories, he was always the one giving them “specials,” bright orange marshmallow treats shaped like peanuts. My boys loved them and, more importantly, they loved PopPaw! When we lost him, he was the last of my grandparents, and that connection with family was gone.
As we stood holding hands in a circle before the visitation, the pastor said a wonderful prayer for the family. My family members were all consumed with their grief, because losing my PopPaw was a tremendous blow. During that prayer, I felt prompted to look up. I knew this was hard on my boys and I, being the protector, wanted to make sure they were as OK as they could be. God used that moment to fill my heart with such gratitude. I observed one of my boys shedding tears, real and plentiful tears. This may not seem like much to you, but in that moment, I saw my PopPaw in my boy. As PopPaw aged, tears became more frequent, which was a stark contrast to the never crying PopPaw I knew growing up. What a blessing to see PopPaw experience that kind of emotion, and what a blessing to see my son experience it as well.
Out of the hardest emotional pain come expressions of love that are real and unexpected.
Sometimes pain involves physical, emotional, and spiritual aspects—all three.
We see this in the life of Christ. On the night before he was crucified, he went to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42 NIV). Jesus knew this was his destiny. Even so, the plans of God can be tough to understand or see happen. The Bible tells us in Luke 22:44 that Jesus was praying so intensely that his sweat was like blood. Can you imagine being in such anguish that capillaries burst under your skin? The pain Jesus was feeling took the physical, the emotional, and the spiritual into account. He knew his road would be difficult; even he needed supernatural strengthening from his Father to get through that time.
Unfortunately, that suffering in the garden was only beginning. He was betrayed by Judas and handed over to the Sanhedrin, the governing body in Jerusalem at that time. Through interrogations by Jewish and Roman officials, including Pontus Pilate, Jesus again encountered physical pain, this time at the hands of his captors. The men finally decided that he was guilty of blasphemy, and sentenced him to die a criminal’s death through crucifixion. Physical, emotional, and spiritual pain engulfed our Savior as he hung on a cross, feeling forsaken by his own Father.
Can you imagine the intensity of what he felt?
Through all of that, he had one motivation: love. His love for you and for me kept him on the path where his Father had placed him. Knowing that the end of his life on earth would be filled with incredible pain from many sources, he still did it. He walked through betrayal, physical and emotional abuse, loneliness—all because of the love he had for us.
We see the love Jesus had for his mother when he told John, one of his disciples, that Mary was now his mother (John 19:27). We see the love he had for the criminals who hung on crosses beside him when he offered them eternal life with him. Jesus showed love during the most challenging time of his life. Love was still his motivation, love was still being shown by him, and love was still distinctly present even as death drew near. He could have called upon angels to rescue him from that cross. Love made him stay.
Love makes us do crazy things.
Love can be found in the midst of the most incredible pain, in the most heart-breaking pain, in the most unimaginable pain. We have to keep our eyes open in order to see it in times such as these. Our gracious God allows us the opportunity to give, receive, and recognize love in the midst of our pain. Will you let love be your greatest motivation in your own times of pain?
is a wife, mom, and Bible study teacher, who loves to cook, write and make music. She and her husband have two grown sons who come home to NC often, bringing their special sweetheart girls with them. You can follow her at https://anitafessler.wordpress.com/ or on social media at https://www.facebook.com/beverywellfed.
Photograph © Rosie Fraser, used with permission
