When Midwife Means Missionary

Because every woman deserves to know how capable she is. That her creator has endowed her with the strength of lions and wind and oceans. That she has been chosen among humans to weave together Life in her womb and that the work it takes to separate herself from that life is heroic.

Every woman. Here, there, everywhere. Every woman.

Because fear has no place in the carved out space God intended for Life and someone needs to tell it to get out.

Carrie, the woman who assisted in the births of my children, who has been a friend and mentor here in my early mothering is amazing in her own right. She is a beloved daughter of God with all the messy glory that comes with that and her heart has been totally captured by her Father’s work in childbearing women – specifically women laboring in places where they approach birth as death.

Because ask her and she can bring it to earth real fast with shocking mortality rates and the looks in the eyes of women who have seen their sisters die, seen newborns buried, do not have baby showers and countdowns, but instead steel themselves for labor as for war.

So she is leaving the comfort and safety of our world to meet these women in theirs. She is hurrying with a banner of hope – that their lives matter to the God who created them and that they can change numbers on charts, holes in family trees. That they are made for more than resigning to death. She is carrying the message of Jesus – Hope is Here. You can celebrate Life Now. You can do this and you’re not alone.

So while birth kits are assembled and medical knowledge shared, Jesus will be holding these women’s hands as they imagine the worst. Jesus will be locking eyes and sustaining peace as they succumb to contractions. Jesus will be presenting healthy, crying babies to new mothers who were never sure they would see this through. And Jesus will be smiling, laughing, rejoicing in every first-breathe as relief and knowing wash over his precious daughters.

And he’ll be doing it through Carrie’s hands, her eyes, her arms, her voice. I know. He did it for me.

If you are so inclined, consider supporting this work. We all have things that tug us – things that we can’t ignore, that God will use to change the world somehow. If this is something that resonates with you and you want to do something about it, go here and give. If possible, set it up as a recurring donation – and as you’ve heard a million times from a million fundraisers, anything helps. :)

To learn more and/or follow her family’s mission go to her blog The Midwife Said “Don’t Be Afraid”. Aaaand the family’s official “missionary” blog is also here. :)

Because midwife always means missionary and sometimes it means Africa.

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