That’s right ladies: “saved through childbirth”.

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Me in labor with Zoe. I was saved from some pain by that epidural…

 

 

I always scratched my head (and raised an eyebrow) at I Timothy 2:15. It just seems bizarre. What does it mean anyway? Pop out a bunch of kids and salvation is for the taking? So yay for Michelle Duggar but boo for the fertility challenged?

 

Well, this post does not delve into the meaning of the verse. No exegesis this time. But I did want to share this piece by Lacy Borgo at Renovare because it’s awesome.

 

I’ve been avoiding 1 Timothy 2:8-15 for the better part of two decades.

 

 

Over the years I’ve asked pastors, teachers, missionaries, atheists, and a janitor what they thought this passage means, but I was never ready to sit with it until now.

I walked into the passage with my two able guides NT Wright (For Everyone Bible Study) and the Holy Spirit. Knowing the religious culture of Ephesus and how the cult of Artemis ruled the men, helps clear up some of the fog. How we can’t read this correctly if we take it out of the culture and the times, and how we have to weigh this with other words that Paul said, like there is no male or female, Greek or Jew, slave or free.

 

And I do believe that when we are truly transformed by the renewing of our mind, our outsides as well as our insides will be affected, more loving, less tube tops.

But that last part… being saved through child bearing. And this coming from a man who had never bore children… what did he know?

 

The Holy Spirit and I had a conversation about this. Jump back to Genesis, funny how so many things are tied to that spot. Painful child bearing= curse.  While both my children were brought into this world through c-section, trust me there was pain in that magic show act of sawing me in half. But frankly, most of the pain has come afterward.

 

Mothering is painful work. And it lasts far longer than six weeks.  The process of the world not revolving around me is a painful one indeed. Sleep deprivation aside, serving someone who for a good decade will not be able to serve me back can be long suffering.  And if serving my children wasn’t enough, realizing I’m not in the least, in charge of this process of maturation, mine or theirs, is a humbling experience.  Fear of screwing up has sent me scrambling to the throne of God, ready to submit even my own will.  Eleven years into the parenting journey and I realize the redemption “child bearing” has brought me. Today I am more like Jesus than I was 11 years ago. Not perfect, just ask my husband and kids, but more patient, more kind, generous sometimes, and even joyful.

Who knew my soul could be shaped, salvaged by raising children? Paul did.

 

Amen! Read it in it’s entirety. I can truly relate.

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