A Birthday On The Holiest Of Nights

It was such a clear, cold night. 

The stars shone brightly. 

I couldn't sleep. 

Moon beams streamed through the window.

I wondered what Mary, the mother of our Savior, thought about. 

How did she feel? 

Did her feet swell on the way to Bethlehem. How did she make that journey, so with child?

What was she thinking?

 I pondered these things as I was heavy with child;

as I mourned the loss of my Mother in Law.

I pondered these things during Advent as my time grew near. 

I wondered. 

On the night before the celebration of the birth of the Savior of this world. 

My time came. 

And at 12:48 on December 24, 2002, we were blessed with a beautiful baby girl. 

She was so pink.

And so soft.

I had resigned from teaching.
I was going to be a stay at home mom; for the first time. 

And this sweet girl has grown.

And now she is 11. 

I wonder where God will send her on this life journey. 

How will he use her gentle ways?

Her dimpled smile?

This child we weren't expecting. 

This gift.  

Even now;

as we mourn and walk a deep journey of grief and unknown.

She brings us great joy. 

She snuggles and loves to be held. 

This child loves to clean. 

So different from me.

She prefers order in the midst of all our chaos. 

She born on the holiest night of all. 

She is graceful and elegant. 

Happy Birthday our sweet Ana.

Christiana Shirley.

Named after the Grammie she never met.

But who we say kissed that sweet face before she was sent down. 

Because there is a shadow of Shirley in that Christiana. 

Thank you for the lessons you have taught us about slowing down. 

About breathing deep and treasuring moments.

And I wonder what Mary thought.  

Luke 2:17-18

 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

Mark Lowery wrote this song and sings it here. 

I pray on this holy of days that we ponder all that was given; 

all that was sacrificed when the Incarnate came as a babe.