Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A Good and Perfect Gift

Delight or despair?
A call from the hospital.
Too early – and yet. . .
Hope and fear.
The anniversary of a birth
followed so shortly by a death.

God is the author of life
and for this child we have prayed
But. . .
God measures life against eternity.
Not so far-sighted – my perspective,
knowing God does not always answer
as I wish.
Fears – yet trust.
Trust – yet fears.

The stuff of life draining away,
but a heartbeat steady and strong.

A tiny cry,
piercing, sharp,
different from any newborn I have heard,
yet alive, vigorous, protesting.

So tiny, this little life,
so vulnerable.

High-tech nursery,
artificial womb,
pinnacle of human skill
yet so much less
than womb designed by God.

Compassionate, professional care
for child and mother.

A little one squirming,
arms and legs rarely still,
tubes and wires attached.
yet overflowing with life.
Arms that ache to hold
Cameras clicking, clicking,
trying to catch the magic
of each moment.

Needles, tubes, sensors,
wires and leads.
A mother rejoicing to hold
for the first time.

Triumphs, setbacks,
weariness, celebration.
And still the cameras click.

Fears – yet trust.
Trust – yet fears.
For this child we still pray.

Paige Ruth – a joyful name.
Young Assistant – Blessed Helper,
Companion – Faithful.
A Messenger of Hope.
Each day a little stronger
and hands that long to touch, to hold.

Fears – yet trust.
Trust – yet fears.
For this child we will pray
for God is the author of life,
the giver of every good and perfect gift.
Is there any gift more perfect
than a newborn babe?

Hope – in a broken world.
Joy – in a hospital’s corridors.
Love – in a young mother’s eyes
And the father
with stilted words
says with body language
what lips and tongue cannot express.

Love – surrounding a little one,
cherishing her,
pouring life into her.
Not just from mother’s breast,
though very much from there.

Joy – in every motion,
every rise and fall of tiny chest,
curl of fingers,
stretching toes.
So much life
in such a tiny bundle.

And this story
though a million times told
is still so new, so fresh,
so brimming with life and promise.
And under all, God’s hand,
holding, protecting, loving.
The Creator Himself
intimately involved.
He knows her name,
watches each rise and fall of her chest,
each beat of her heart;
Wove her in her mother’s womb,
knit her together,
fearfully and wonderfully;
Loves her with the same fierce love
that chose a cross
rather then letting his people perish.

Fears – yet trust.
Trust – yet fears.
But GOD. . .
. . .
and that is enough.

Due April 9, but born March 5, we continue to rejoice in our newest granddaughter. She has been home from the hospital for a number of weeks now and is steadily gaining weight.


Judith Lawrence said...

Thank you Brian for this beautiful poem. Thank you for taking the time and the effort to post under difficult circumstances.


Peter Black said...

It's so good to read your work again, Brian. You've taken us into the heart of a very human situation, yet touched with a consciousness of the Divine.

Eleanor Shepherd said...

Brian, I am not usually a fan of poetry, but this is beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing it.

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