Cries in the Night
All is still. All is quiet. A full moon shines bright, surrounded by millions of stars. Date palms, silhouetted against the sky; cactus flowers closed, waiting for morning sun.
The young girl also waits -- waits for the One promised, waits for relief from contractions, one on top of the other.
Her life had changed so drastically over the past year -- meeting Joseph, who wanted to marry her, the message from God, telling her she would be mother to Messiah, the long nine months of pregnancy. She was tired. She wanted so badly to get the baby out, but wasn't ready for the title "Mother" and all the challenges it would bring.
During a brief break from pain, she smiled tentatively up at that patient, loyal man looking down at her with compassion and concern. He squeezed her hand and pressed her head tight into his chest.
"You're amazing, Mary. You're so strong."
And then the final pushes, the screams, the blood.
"He's here -- you did it, Mary! It's a boy! It's our Jesus -- our son! Our Savior."
Arms flail, little lungs fill with air, then let it out with healthy cries. Cries in the night, just before sun rises, bringing new light to the world.
Written with tears early this Sabbath morning as we wait for good news of healthy little lungs in another state.
Wish we could be there.
The young girl also waits -- waits for the One promised, waits for relief from contractions, one on top of the other.
Her life had changed so drastically over the past year -- meeting Joseph, who wanted to marry her, the message from God, telling her she would be mother to Messiah, the long nine months of pregnancy. She was tired. She wanted so badly to get the baby out, but wasn't ready for the title "Mother" and all the challenges it would bring.
During a brief break from pain, she smiled tentatively up at that patient, loyal man looking down at her with compassion and concern. He squeezed her hand and pressed her head tight into his chest.
"You're amazing, Mary. You're so strong."
And then the final pushes, the screams, the blood.
"He's here -- you did it, Mary! It's a boy! It's our Jesus -- our son! Our Savior."
Arms flail, little lungs fill with air, then let it out with healthy cries. Cries in the night, just before sun rises, bringing new light to the world.
Written with tears early this Sabbath morning as we wait for good news of healthy little lungs in another state.
Wish we could be there.