Not often, but stunningly when it happens,
I see a minute of Jesus on the cross.
My grief for Him is limited because
I am not gripped as He was with
The joy set before Him.

And as for God watching His Son
Bleed and tremble and anguish,
That does get me closer to
What it cost Him.

I had a dream last night that the
Bad Guys of Dreamland (you know them)
Had come and cut off Will’s fingers.
He was kneeling
On the kitchen floor, bleeding,
Trembling. 

And somehow as I absorbed his pain
Into my heart, this weird dream knit
Me together with my Heavenly Father
As He willed and watched the cross.

And it made me love Him.

On becoming a mother
I contract to:

Exchange my nerves for your peace;
Give my body to yours;
Lay down my time to decorate yours;
Day-labor for your future so it’s ready when you get there;
Feed your heart with Truth, and your mind with Good,
And your body with health;
Stay awake when you are sick in body, or soul;
Wait restlessly for your whispered ‘Hey, I’m home’;
Sleep lightly when you sleep;
Feel every one of your slings and arrows first, for you,
Dream for you when you don’t know how to,
Understand you always,
Learn to listen to you,
Cheer for the smallest big accomplishments,
Toddle beside you and laugh and cry,

And to feel like all of this
Is the best present I’ve ever received,
Better than a day spa,
A lottery win,
A title,
An honors stole around my neck.

Thank you. For being born.