Many years ago I had a miscarriage a few days before Easter. The sense of loss was profound, especially since I had not yet told many people that I was pregnant, and carried the grief alone. Yet the experience wove me closer to the suffering inherent to that juncture in history like no plush bunny nestled in plastic grass ever
could.
But this Christmas has already redoubled for me, even though it has technically not arrived yet. The words "exceedingly great joy" and "rejoice" come close.
Our oldest daughter and her husband are having a baby.
She recently sent a video of the ultrasound, which offered a window into a life that is even now gaining momentum. A flurry of meticulously timed changes are swelling inside of her, even
if she cannot name them.
For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works. Psalm 139
How is it that God is so magnanimous as to let us share in the creation of a human being? For people who have trouble letting their children crack eggs into the pancake batter, this is impressive. Some of us resist
allowing preschoolers to decorate the tree lest they burden a single branch with fourteen ornaments leaving other ones stark.
Fearfully and wonderfully are not often linked in a single sentence. Yet here they are. There is material for fear, in inviting a baby into a world such as ours. Yet wonder is in great supply as well.
