Holding the strings for puppets is an acceptable way for grown ups to play. Today two friends and I will portray the dramatic story in Revelation of a Great Red Dragon chasing a mother in the pangs of birth. She is lovely, clothed with the light and warmth of the sun, and arrayed with stars above her head. Her feet rest gently on the moon.   

There is a battle. Michael and his angels protect the woman from the seven headed dragon. The beast tries to drown her, but she escapes on the loft of wide wings. 

I love this story. Motherhood has been the centerpiece of my life, and while there were no dragons, I waged my own wars to protect my children. Neither did I achieve flight, but there were absolutely instances of Divine rescue. The experience of birth empowered me, as uncertainty crashed into abundance. 

I am grateful for those parts of scripture that express the depth of that passion. I notice that there is an economy of words in the text. It says that she "travailed", which is a euphemism. Four syllables do not begin to convey what I felt those nine times as I wrestled with birth. Plus the passage completely skips over any description of the love she felt for her son. Mothers can fill in the blank, and yet the omission intrigues me. Is it too obvious to mention? Are there no metaphors expansive enough to contain it? 

In the absence of verbal declarations, we see what she does. The mother faces great danger while giving the whole of her strength to bringing her child into the world. She escapes to the ends of the earth, having entrusted her precious infant to the care of God.

Which is what every mother has to do.