"If the God you believe in as an idea doesn’t start showing up in what happens to you in your own life, you have as much cause for concern as if the God you don’t believe in as an idea does start showing up. It is absolutely crucial, therefore, to keep in constant touch with what is going on in your own life’s story and to pay close attention to what is going on in the stories of others’ lives. If God is present anywhere, it is in those stories that God is present. If God is not present in those stories, then they are scarcely worth telling." ~ Frederick Buechner

06 December 2011

A "Labor of Love"

Point of Grace has been an absolute favorite of mine since my earliest days of walking with the Lord. This song has been going through my head often this week as I've been reflecting on how amazing it was to be pregnant at Christmastime last year. There was something incredible about feeling my little boy kicking and doing somersaults in my womb while dwelling on the precious gift of Jesus. 

I can understand why the Catholics revere Mary so highly. For a young Jewish girl, betrothed, a virgin, with only an angel's word that she was carrying the Messiah, she sure had more grace, faithfulness, and humility than I could ever dream of possessing (and I KNOW how the story ends!).

Akiane Kramarik, "A Mother's Love"

It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
On the streets of David's town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
For the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love

It was not a silent night
On the streets of David's town

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