This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
There’d been no room for the child.
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
There’d been no room for the child.
Madeleine L’Engle
After the long night with no rest and Danica sick all over I stumble into the living room early this morning to find this miracle blossom open. It started out just a clump of stinky flesh buried in a pot a few weeks ago. We watched and waited. The shoot grew so tall. Just yesterday we talked about how pregnant she was. I tied her up with a stick and some twine. Birth pangs around the corner in the dark while I laid here crying out for saving. I never should have looked away.
God, help me sit and really watch this Advent season lest I miss something BIG like the birth of the Savior of the world. My Savior.
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