As I sit here in the lobby of Mary Birch Hospital, I am flooded with memories,
thoughts, and emotions. I am waiting for a dear friend to come out of surgery after
battling a tenacious bout with breast cancer. It’s ironic, in a deeply meaningful way, that
Mary Birch—the hospital where I was born, and where all three of my children were
born—is the same place where my dear friend has come to end the growth of cancer in
her body. I sit back and think about all the women who might be laboring in this very
moment. While peaceful piano music lightly fills the large, airy lobby, upstairs there are
women screaming and groaning through the excruciating pain of childbirth—laboring to
bring forth the promise they’ve carried for nine long months. I know that labor well.
Twelve years ago, I earned my badge of honor by laboring with my first son. Determined
to deliver without medication or intervention, I labored for over twenty-four hours after
my water broke. The pain came in waves, doubling me over, as I tried to breathe
through every contraction. Finally, my heart broke as I was rushed into the operating
room for an emergency C-section. Everything I had planned for, every expectation I
had, was stripped away. Yet within a short period of time, my son was in my arms.
Everything that came before—the pain, the frustration, the unexpected
changes—became insignificant in comparison to seeing the promise staring back at me.
Laboring is hard. Laboring hurts. It takes everything we have within us and pushes us
beyond what we think is possible. Laboring looks different for every single one of us.
For some, it’s a quick process; for others, it takes days. But here’s the truth: the
promise will come.
As we begin 2025, I feel the Holy Spirit prompting me that this new year will be a
time of crushing—a season of laboring. At first, the word “crushing” felt heavy, negative.
It sounded uncomfortable, painful, and exhausting. But as I sat with it and allowed the
Holy Spirit to minister to me, I began to see the beauty hidden within that word. Grapes
must be crushed to produce precious wine. The crushing process transforms what was
once just fruit hanging on a vine into something new, something valuable. Christ tells us
in John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you
will bear much fruit.” As we abide in Christ, our lives begin to produce fruit—good fruit
(Galatians 5:22-23): love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness, and self-control. But the process doesn’t end there. Once the harvest
comes, the fruit must be crushed. That crushing is our laboring in life—birthing the
promises of God. It is in the pressing, in the difficult and uncomfortable seasons, that
something new is created.
What will the crushing in your life produce? When a relationship fails, when
sickness strikes, when we lose a loved one, or when tragedy shakes our world—these
are the moments of active labor. These are the times we feel the pressing, the
stretching, and the breaking. But it’s in those moments that God is at work, creating
something far greater than we can imagine. “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are
few” (Matthew 9:37). God is inviting us into His labor—into the crushing process—to
produce something precious for His Kingdom. In the Old Testament, Gideon was found
threshing wheat in a winepress (Judges 6:11). It was an unusual sight—using a space
meant for crushing grapes to thresh grain. Gideon was hiding, fearful of his enemies,
but God met him there in the winepress. God called him to rise up, trust Him, and step
into his divine purpose. Perhaps you feel like Gideon—using your energy, your labor, in
ways that seem out of place or unexpected. Perhaps you feel hidden or weary in this
season. But know this: God meets us in the crushing. He meets us in the labor. He calls
us to trust Him with the outcome. The crushing, though painful, is never wasted. The
labor, though exhausting, is producing something of great worth. Just as grapes
become wine, God uses our pressing to bring forth His promises.
As we enter 2025, I encourage you to prepare your heart for the laboring and the
crushing. It may look different for each of us, but we can trust in the faithfulness of God.
His promises will not fail. Just like the joy that comes when a long-awaited child is
placed in your arms, the joy of seeing God’s work in your life will far outweigh the pain
of the process. As you consider this message today, reflect on what fruit God might be
producing in your life right now and what will the crushing create. Let us labor well,
knowing the promise is coming. “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the
proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” – Galatians 6:9
Hauhna Hicks
What an excellent reminder of God’s faithful purpose to conform us to the image of Christ. Though weeping endures through the night- joy comes in the morning. Thank you for keeping this reminder in front of us as we labor in prayer.