“Truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains by itself. But if it dies, it produces much fruit.” John 12:24
Although I had seen many pregnant women before I lived with one, I had a lot to learn about this condition. What a woman goes through to have a baby is inconceivable.
For the first few months of my wife’s pregnancies, mornings were the worst. I remember feeling so bad to see her sick at the start of nearly every day. I’m responsible for this, I would think. Once the morning sickness ended, my wife’s belly began to inflate like a beach ball. I was completely awestruck by the way our growing child was changing her body. I tried to imagine how this must feel—to give myself so completely to something in such a tangible way. I couldn’t do it. I wondered if I would be willing to do such a thing to have a child.
Both of our babies were born in the early fall, which meant Bobbie spent two hot summers with her expanding and overheated frame. She was a good sport, but I knew she was miserable. I’m responsible for this, I would think again.
When we went to the hospital for the birth our first child, my wife felt what I would describe as sheer panic. Extracting this kid from her body was a brutal experience. What else can I say? Three years later, the second delivery was even rougher.
I will never forget what my late wife went through to have our children. I will always be thankful for her long-suffering.
Jesus, in today’s reading, described the price He was about to pay with His own death. His sacrifice provided the way for us to experience life. This is also inconceiv- able. Jesus went to the cross for me, for my sin. If He hadn’t, where would I—where would we—be? This principle—sacrifice producing life—is also a picture of what our wives went through to have these babies.
For nine full months—and more than a few months afterward—this woman who loves you “died” to herself. She set aside her pride to share her body with someone else. Someone who would, during those nine months, upset her stomach, make a flight of stairs a complete workout, and keep her awake at night with all that tumbling and kicking inside. Finally, this little someone would bring your wife to the brink of terrorizing pain at his or her birth. Think of the price your wife paid for you to be a father.
Isn’t this a powerful picture of the idea that when “a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies. . . . It produces much fruit” (v. 24)? Yes, it is. Does your wife know how grateful you are that she went through this laborious experience of self-denial and pain for your child and for you?
What a good idea it would be to thank your heavenly Father for the sacrifice He made for you. It would also be wonderful to make sure that your kids’ mom knows that you love her and are grateful for what she did to have a baby. You are responsible for this.