Delivering Love

December 22, 2009

Low in the womb He lay.
His movements have slowed.
Positioned and ready.
Life ready to be birthed.
Mother's breathing labors.
Abdomen walls grow taut, stretched tight.
Muscles twinge, relax, squeeze, contract.
Intensity increases more rapidly.
"Not here, not now."
She thinks back over these gestational months.
The disbelief, the stares, the heartache of rejection.
But the joy!
She recalls each blessed stage.
That first wave of nausea that confirmed suspicion.
The cravings that substantiated faith.
That surreal first flutter.
An elbow poking mid-section -- from the inside.
The tickle of hiccups.
The long talks, and hopes, and prayers.
The giddiness, apprehension, fear.
Exuberation!
And now, pain!
You groan to deliver.
You hold that hard globe to steady from the jostling ride.
Holding him in -- trying to delay the inevitable to a more convenient time.
But the time had fully come.
"We must wait until we can reach a place to rest."
Wave upon incredible wave, a body on sensory overload.
Wanting to go back and forward both at the same time.
"I must lie down."
My knees too weak to stand; back too cramped to straighten.
You must deliver He who will deliver you.
The world.
Your husband gives you aid, he lovingly comforts and coaches you along.
You finally lay, weary, upon a bed of straw.
What to do?
What now?
Crowned and straining forward.
Light pushed toward light.
At last!
Our gazes meet at last!
The One whose known me forever sees met me at last.
The child I've held for months I finally cradle within my arms.
The memory of travel, labor, and location vanish.
All I know is love.
All I see is Love.