A Part of My Story I’ve Never Shared… Until Now
As a teenager, there was nothing I wanted more than to serve on a mission trip in a third world country. So when I was finally sent to Belize, Central America, my heart soared. I was there to help lead a Bible school for young children, and to me, it felt like a dream fulfilled — a big, bold checkmark on my bucket list.
One afternoon, I went for a walk alone. The heat pressed down, the streets were quiet. I passed a crumbling old building with a broken sign that read “Belize Hospital.” But in a strange flicker of perception, the words shifted before my eyes — “Lorene Spiritual Midwifery.”
I blinked hard.
Closed my eyes.No. Absolutely not.
I didn’t want anything to do with being a midwife — not because I didn’t love babies, but because I didn’t want the mess. The pain. The blood. The rawness.
I actually ran.
Down the road.
As if I could outrun what I’d seen.
That night, I lay in bed wrestling with what I then understood as God. I asked, “What was that?” And the only impression I received was this: It’s not a physical midwife. It’s something spiritual.
I tucked that moment away for decades.
In the years that followed, I found myself helping people — emotionally, spiritually, physicallywalking alongside them through some of their deepest transitions. I assumed that was what it meant to be a spiritual midwife: helping others, healing others, staying busy, being useful.
But deep inside, something never sat quite right. Something about it still felt… incomplete.
Fast forward to now, and I finally understand:
Being a spiritual midwife is not about tasks.
It’s not about service alone.
It’s not about managing someone else's labor pains.
It is about presence.
It is about allowing the divine mystery to flow through me, not from me.
It is about the sacred act of revealing — not fixing, not doing — but— not fixing, not doing — but holding space for what is birthing in the cosmos itself.
Today, I know:
I am a spiritual midwife.
Not because I deliver others, but because I’ve delivered myself — again and again — into deeper truths, higher frequencies, and radiant wholeness.
And this work, this calling, this title I once ran from…
It is now the name etched in gold across the temple of my becoming.
Lorene
