Come O’ Come

Squatting in the stable,

no room to do so at the inn.

Church choirs sing silent night,

angel choirs sound the trumpets.

Mary wails, grunts, and breathes heavily.

Push, push, push.

God humbling himself to humanity

through a woman’s portal.

The strength of God entering innocently by the strength of a woman:

the strength of a sweat streaked brow, swollen ankles, stiff back due to riding a donkey into town but able to squeeze holiness through feeble flesh.

Mary’s lamb blood pools and washes dirt encrusted feet, relief from labor’s pain and the earth’s weeping bondage.

Heaving joy she wraps the fluid soaked babe in her arms as God redeems the world, wrapping people in glorious light for all time.

She kisses him.  God kisses tear stricken faces.

A woman rocked by labor rocks the world to freedom.

 

*needs some work but listening to Christmas songs my mind wandered and I needed to jot thoughts.*

 

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