Today brings us full circle.
The first time I give birth, I am afraid.
I am in South Africa, home after a decade away, and afraid of the vast unknown of child birth.
The second time I give birth, I am more afraid. Because this time I know what lies ahead.
I realize that pregnancy, like marriage, is an act of courage and submission.
“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Luke 1:38.
For the joy set before him, he endured the cross. Hebrews 12:1.
Every second time mother knows the intimate joy of holding in her arms a being whose life is so new, so delicate, its skin is still translucent with heaven. She knows the smell of baby breath and the delicate warmth of a heart that is beating with all four chambers for the first time.
But she also remembers.
She remembers the hard work of growing, carrying, and delivering that child into the world. She bears scars. And she needs to gird her courage around about her to do it again.
Jesus knew why he was coming. Birthed of a mother, he came to deliver us. He came to carry us in his sinless heart and birth us into his Father’s family. And he knew what the labor pains would feel like and what the delivery would cost him.
Death and life. Ask any pregnant mother and you will find her thoughts equally consumed by both. Birth is hard and messy work. It is intimate and exposed at the same time. And the God born in a barn ended his days executed like a common criminal. Bloody, messy journey. A thirty three year gestation period to deliver us into the hands of God the Father.
“I have revealed you to those whom you gave me out of the world. They were yours; you gave them to me and they have obeyed your word. 7 Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you. …. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name, the name you gave me, so that they may be one as we are one.” John 17:6-12.
He was born so that we might have life – and have it to the full.
I want to sing my thanks with the angels.
I want to run to kneel by his side with the shepherds.
I want to give him extravagant and exotic gifts.
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” Luke 2:14.
Even though I know they’d be mere finger paintings, macaroni necklaces, mere doodles outside the lines to the King of the Cosmos. But I also know he’d treasure them.
Because I am his daughter. Carried, birthed, delivered.
And so are you.
By Lisa-Jo, The Gypsy Mama
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