A reflection on Mark 13-1-8. 

When my wife and I hit our early 30s, after being together for eleven years, we decided to expand our family. College degrees obtained, careers established, home purchased, for us it was time.

We soon realized bringing new life into the world was harder than we knew.

After eighteen months of trying without success we contacted a fertility specialist. With their help and trying some more – that’s always the fun part – some news.

The pregnancy test delivered. Two solid lines on that plastic stick appeared.

Success!

But it was early. We didn’t tell a soul. Much, we knew, could still go wrong.

Every few days Kathi went to the fertility specialist, with me by her side, for a lab draw to ensure all was well. Initially it was. The hCG number doubled every three days just as it should. Until it didn’t. An ultrasound explained why. No heartbeat could be found.

The embryo had genetic abnormalities incompatible with life. It would have been a boy.

We were five weeks along.
We were devastated.

It took some time to heal heart, body, mind.
Eventually we decided to start over and try again.

Soon enough there was another pregnancy test. Two more solid lines!

We were excited, but cautious. We kept up with our appointments, praying this time would be different.

The first ultrasound showed a heartbeat. Yes!

But the second did not. This embryo would have been a girl.

This time we were eight weeks along.
We grieved some more.

Our fertility doctor performed a D&C on Kathi after both miscarriages, offering their skills, support, empathy, and care. Thank God for medical professionals that specialize in women’s reproductive health.

Progress
Four years after our parenthood journey began, we decided, again, to continue on.

Another positive pregnancy test followed.
Could this third time be the charm?

The hCG numbers doubled as they should. The ultrasound showed a heartbeat. The heartbeat stayed strong. Finally, we reasoned, things were looking good.

We read the book seemingly everyone gets, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, anticipating each upcoming change. Feeling hopeful, we nicknamed this one “Bean,” a playful reference to their size at six weeks.

The first trimester came and went without hitch. The second trimester did too.

We excitedly designed Bean’s nursery, adding the crib, stuffed animals, a changing table. We selected the paint color for their room: cantaloupe. It matched nicely with the Winnie the Pooh motif we selected for the room.

Kathi and I plotted out the birthing plan, defining each detail of how we wanted Bean to be born.

No need to schedule an induction.
Let’s do this naturally, please.

And pain medication?
No need, Kathi said.
Lord knows she is *tough*

Besides, we figured, our doctor would be there, helping us all along the way.

Forty weeks came and went. On Bean’s due date we attended a Spring Training baseball game, knowing the big event would be soon. The Mets beat the Cardinals, in Jupiter, Florida, by a score of 6-4 on that sunny March 5th day.

The Day
Our next prenatal visit four days later brought with it unexpected news. “You need to check into the hospital tonite to be induced,” our doctor shared. Oh boy, I thought. This is it.

“And I’m sorry,” our doctor continued, “but I’m going on vacation. I can’t be there. Don’t worry, another doctor will take my place.” What? That wasn’t the plan.

We worried. Then we worried some more.

Now in the hospital Kathi was induced, and in a lot of pain. Letting go of one more part of the plan she opted for an epidural.

But the epidural didn’t do what we’d hoped; once contractions started her pain was excruciating. “It felt like my insides were being torn in half,” Kathi remembers.

The machines connected to Kathi were beeping; her blood pressure was skyrocketing. Bean’s heartrate dropped dangerously low.

I watched as Kathi was carted off for an emergency C-section, and quickly got ready to join her. As the procedure began the operating room grew quiet. Fear got the best of me. We later learned that Kathi had a uterine window, a hole in the uterus. This hole was literally ripping her apart. If the C-section hadn’t happened when it did, I could have lost them both.

I’ve never been as excited, or as scared, as in those minutes spent waiting to hear the fate of the two people on the planet I loved most.

And then, at 10:19am March 10, 2010, a seven-pound baby girl appeared. She filled her lungs with air, made her first sounds. We named her Hannah Grace Arnold.

As I first held Hannah, looking down at that tiny, peaceful face, and over at my exhausted yet joy-filled wife as she was being stitched up in recovery, I realized something.

Our five-year journey had been long. It was filled with unexpected, unwanted detours. Very little had gone according to our personal plan. There had been very real emotional and physical pain along the way. At times that pain seemed too much to bear.

But you know what? In that March moment none of that painful past mattered. Because my heart was instantly filled with joy, peace, love. For what mattered most was now sleeping in my arms. This new life we’d been waiting for so long had finally arrived.

Then
Today’s gospel from Mark 13:1-8 is also about how difficult it can be to bring new life into the world.

In it the disciples were impressed by the grandiose, great towers of their time. Jesus warns them to guard against being distracted by how things seem. Don’t worship opulence, Christ tells them, for one day it will all be gone.

There will be wars, and rumors of wars, political upheavals, extreme weather, Christ continues. Many will try and lead you astray.

This is a text for our time.
This is a text for all times.

At first blush it is downright depressing.

And yet, on closer inspection, the text offers hope.

Don’t be alarmed, Christ reminds. For all of this must come to pass.

The final two words of this text in verse 8 hold the key to unlocking it: birth pangs. Collectively, right now, we are experiencing labor pain. For God is birthing the kingdom of heaven all around.

Today
We may have our preferences on the birthing plan for this new kingdom. We may have our hopes of when, and how, and with who it all goes down.

But no one knows the time or the day of when this upcoming birth will be fully realized. To focus on our desires for what that looks like is to wholly miss the point.

Our prayer today is our prayer for all days. That –

Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On earth, as it is, in heaven.

And we, beloved, fortunately get to take part.

We are the helpers, sowing the seeds of this kingdom to come.

Our society sadly is moving toward some unfortunate times. Collectively our culture, more and more is one of anger, grievance, lawlessness, revenge, untruth.

And yet as Christ-followers we know, unequivocally, that none of that is of God.

Instead let us recenter on our faith. May we plant the fruits of the Spirit in our spiritual gardens. May the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control blossom within us and grow all around. No law can stop us from doing just that.

To strengthen us on our journey from pain to joy, let us practice self-care alongside care of neighbor. So –

Cook for pleasure,
Clean the house,
Winterize your garden,
Volunteer in community,
Dance.

Read scripture,
Read romance,
Read adventure,
Read in public,
Simply read.

Take a walk,
Ride a bike,
Give a hug,
Hold hands,
Sleep.

Take a bath,
Call a friend,
Play a game,
Tell a joke,
Laugh.

Pray,
Worship,
Commune,
Study,
Sing.

Recognize the pain you, and so many others, are in. Don’t deny it. Hold space for it. Give yourself time to heal. With help from above in time you will.

Remember beloved, the kingdom of God grows, right here on earth. It is a beautiful kingdom. Bit by bit it breaks through the decay of this world. Do not be alarmed. We are in labor. For God, with our help, is birthing this world anew. Amen.