The morning after the night before by Tracy Williamson
I wonder how Mary felt,
the morning after the night before?
I imagine she was at the very least, exhausted
after her epically long and difficult journey
while at the height of her pregnancy.
What thoughts and fears she contended with
I can barely comprehend,
for no one before, since or to come
will ever be called to do what she did.
To birth the son of the living God,
A holy birth, a miraculous conception,
The impossible taking form
inside her own womb.
Beautiful yet terrifying.
Awesome yet incomprehensible.
Why would God choose her, so young and inexperienced?
she had hardly dared to believe the angels words could be true and yet had felt that strange sense of utter peace in her heart as he brought her God's message. And she suddenly knew that with Him this crazy idea truly would take place and yes she was willing for it to happen.
But now it had happened, they'd undergone that terrible journey and all through that last day she'd known her time was near. The pains were sharp and agonising, the ride on the donkey almost impossible to sustain.
She'd had no prior concept of the impossibility of finding somewhere to stay, the crowds, the noise, the darkness and smells, the fear of what was to come, yes that fear, right in the midst of the peace.
Fear - would she have to birth God's son in the streets in all the mud and filth? And what exactly was she bringing to birth? would it look human, like her even? Or would it have some alien form?
After all who had ever seen God and lived?
Yet now she was carrying His son!
Could she love him, this baby when it came?
Or would it forever be an imposter in own home?
Yet she loved God and wanted with all her heart to fulfil His call.
And now it had happened!
Jesus was here
and after all the struggle of that long journey,
he had arrived easily.
No complications no drawn out labour
Only the surprises of having to give birth in a stable with the animals watching, even sharing the bed, the glory of the strangely beautiful light that throbbed across the sky and the echoes of heavenly praise that seemed to fill the entire universe. Then the shepherds in all their roughness, humbly kneeling to worship...
What did she feel in that moment of birth, bereft of her mother's presence?
her only help the fumbling hands of her young husband?
A as he was born and as she screamed and writhed, pushed and tore
and experienced that lull as He came fully into this world,
She looked down into His face and in that moment her dread melted away as if it had never been.
For this was no alien being,
This was her son, her child, her most precious gift.
Ad inn that moment, as she looked, she loved.
And that is what she felt.
Love. A pure, deep, joy giving, life giving
swell of love
for her baby, for Jesus, For God.
Tracy Williamson is an author and speaker working for the Christian ministry MBM Trust. www.mbm-ministriesTracy lives in Kent sharing a home with her friend and ministry partner Marilyn Baker. Tracy is deaf and has a hearing dog called Goldie. Her latest book The Father's Kiss came out in Sept 18.
the morning after the night before?
I imagine she was at the very least, exhausted
after her epically long and difficult journey
while at the height of her pregnancy.
What thoughts and fears she contended with
I can barely comprehend,
for no one before, since or to come
will ever be called to do what she did.
To birth the son of the living God,
The impossible taking form
inside her own womb.
Beautiful yet terrifying.
Awesome yet incomprehensible.
Why would God choose her, so young and inexperienced?
she had hardly dared to believe the angels words could be true and yet had felt that strange sense of utter peace in her heart as he brought her God's message. And she suddenly knew that with Him this crazy idea truly would take place and yes she was willing for it to happen.
But now it had happened, they'd undergone that terrible journey and all through that last day she'd known her time was near. The pains were sharp and agonising, the ride on the donkey almost impossible to sustain.
She'd had no prior concept of the impossibility of finding somewhere to stay, the crowds, the noise, the darkness and smells, the fear of what was to come, yes that fear, right in the midst of the peace.
Fear - would she have to birth God's son in the streets in all the mud and filth? And what exactly was she bringing to birth? would it look human, like her even? Or would it have some alien form?
After all who had ever seen God and lived?
Yet now she was carrying His son!
Could she love him, this baby when it came?
Or would it forever be an imposter in own home?
Yet she loved God and wanted with all her heart to fulfil His call.
And now it had happened!
Jesus was here
and after all the struggle of that long journey,
he had arrived easily.
No complications no drawn out labour
Only the surprises of having to give birth in a stable with the animals watching, even sharing the bed, the glory of the strangely beautiful light that throbbed across the sky and the echoes of heavenly praise that seemed to fill the entire universe. Then the shepherds in all their roughness, humbly kneeling to worship...
What did she feel in that moment of birth, bereft of her mother's presence?
her only help the fumbling hands of her young husband?
A as he was born and as she screamed and writhed, pushed and tore
and experienced that lull as He came fully into this world,
She looked down into His face and in that moment her dread melted away as if it had never been.
For this was no alien being,
This was her son, her child, her most precious gift.
Ad inn that moment, as she looked, she loved.
And that is what she felt.
Love. A pure, deep, joy giving, life giving
swell of love
for her baby, for Jesus, For God.
Lovely. Thank you
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