An authentic life is the most personal form of worship. Everyday life has become my prayer. ~S.B.B.
17 April 2012
Ebb
It is coming to an end. This last time to carry a child in my womb. And the sweetness carries its drop of bitter. The flutters, the tiny kicks, the melon shaped belly..all signs of the beauty, the wonder, the inexpressible, unbelievable miracle of being one who carries life.
A life carrier. Holding it within myself. And yet fair to bursting to let it out. Soon he will come and the fresh pressed sheet in the cradle will be weighted with a downy head. Nights of semi deep sleep will give way to cracks of morning, slivers of night..weary and wonderful moments of coming to know our little visitor.
Try to hold onto to the precious, the infinite, the irreplaceable moments in this time before birth. In these moments of expectation, of waiting, the laboring and wondering and watching will be over in a flash. And he will be here.
And suddenly this season, this beautiful ripe rich season in my life will give way to another. May my hands open willingly to embrace it. May I not hold on so tightly to this sense of self, this identity in carrying and giving life that I forget to treasure my own. May I ever see the beauty, the magic in the growing gangly, gap toothed tribe that gathers around the dinner table each night. May I find intoxicating their seasons of growth as I watch my own. May we all grow together, underneath and understood by the One who gave life to us all...
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