Reflecting

December 2, 2009

It's Christmastime again, so I've again been listening to "Winter Snow" by Audrey Assad (with Chris Tomlin) a lot. I was just making peas and broccoli for Caleb when it came on. I flashed back to this time last year. I was about 25-ish weeks pregnant, feeling our baby boy jump and flip and kick all the livelong day, listening to the song and thinking about the paradigm shift that pregnancy brought for the season. One year ago I was expectantly hopeful - as the advent hope - of what the following year would bring, and what life would be like for Christmas 2010. I'm listening to the lyrics with the same enlightenment as last year and then some.

You came like a winter snow, quiet and soft and slow

Caleb was born into a focused, calm but determined, dimly lit room (with the exception of my doctor's spotlight). He came out quietly and took his time finding his voice. Even when he did, it was a soft cry and didn't last long before he settled down. And goodness knows it was slow; it took four hours of pushing before he finally joined us.

Falling from the sky in the night to the earth below

It was the middle of the night when he came; 3:27am to be exact. He had ten long fingers and ten long toes, his daddy's eyes and feet, my mouth and chin, and to this day we're not sure whose nose he has. He was a perfect little angel, God's beautiful little boy gifted to us to care after him on this earth.

As I sit here, listening to the song on repeat and hearing "dada" whispered softly on the baby monitor, I feel a renewed kinship with Mary and compassion for God who watched his Son transition from heavenly royalty to helplessness in flesh.