You know, you touch this part
Of my fearful doubting heart
That has been hammered by a Word
of restoration and promise I heard
but did not understand.
The problem is a brand
of the wisdom of women and men,
a knowledge forged in God forsaken
pursuits to wrest control of one's life
admist the din of the relentless strife
that echoes inside, 'There must be
more to life than what I can see'.
And you, dear one, have no place
there in this cruel, punishing race.
You, I am told, will hold us back
from dreams and make us lack
the things that promise pleasure.
But no, no, no, NO, my treasure
and your father's tender hope,
you will not bind or interlope,
nor will you be the face of our fear,
you will be the balm of One  more near
to us that we ever could comprehend,
the best gift the Father could send.
You are what we need
to strengthen every deed,
the good works planned in advance
for us to do before we had a chance
to say, "No, this is better'
and grasp a sorry fetter.



Someone told me today that children are God's gift. I heard the sounds of the words but they found no purchase in my heart. Till I thought of gifts. Gifts are meant to enhance us and not diminish us. And yet how easily we believe that children diminish something of who we are. I am ashamed of this secret thought which would have found no place in my mother's heart nor my grandmother's... nor of any lover of Christ's. Yet it is there in mine and I have laid it on the altar... and I pray that Christ will lay it in the grave of all that once was 'ME'.
 

Let's get acquainted...



Hello you! Yes, you, my little one,
five weeks old, a sesame seed in the sun,
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone,
a good and perfect gift, yet unknown.
You are a mystery, God-grown
defeater of fertility cycles and
dire prognosis from a doctor's hand.
A word made flesh, you must be;
for what else could explain you to me?
When a Word was sent of an open womb,
behold, you rose from a present tomb
of fear
and failure
and all once held dear.
The Hand that is fashioning you is strong
beyond compare and never ever wrong.
It inscribes your days in a precious book
into which I wish I could someday look
and perhaps find the answer to the mystery
Of what my life is meant to be.

Welcome, my beloved.

Three years ago, the Lord blessed us with a lovely daughter Joy. She came at the end of a season of weeping. To be accurate, the weeping did continue for a bit after her birth as well. But true to her name, weeping may last for the night, but joy did come in the morning. She has changed our lives.... But  I regret many things about the journey from her conception to her birth.... This time around, I hope to praise the Lord of second chances... and third and fourth....and perhaps seventy times seven and beyond.

I am a terrible procrastinator and the list of things which I have completed in my life is admittedly small... yet I hope that someone going through a similar journey with me might find some companionship on the way here. To that end, dear friend, I hope I keep at this blog.

I just learnt I was pregnant six hours ago. But here I am.... I don't know what is a good beginning, if that one is not?