I’ve been thinking about this seed of Yahweh conceived in love,
then planted in the cave of a woman-child,
confined and nurtured in her soft dark womb, nourished with her every heartbeat.
How cells of cell multiplied until he fluttered light,
then stretched and rose like yeast bread in her warm belly
until her body could no longer contain him.
How the walls closed in, contracted, kneaded,
and she expelled him down that painful passage toward the light.
How with gush of blood and water he slid wet into the night
and was laid in a cold stone trough.
Whose hands touched him first, this son of man?
His earthly father’s?
Did his parents count his perfect fingers–the fingers of God himself?
I think about those tiny hands that fisted around their fingers,
that held their hands as he grew,
about those hands that maybe planted seeds in soil, shaped wood, chiseled stone,
hands that touched and healed and held a scroll,
fingers that wrote in dirt.
How one day he, light of lights, staggered down another narrow painful passage,
toward the darkness, pummeled and beaten by hands of others
as his own slivered palms quivered with the weight of a heavy cross.
How he was stretched wide, this bread of life.
How this one whose hands pounded nails to build
accepted pounded nails meant to break Creator by created,
and how his mother’s heart exploded with the pain of it and for the love of him.
I think of how his own limp body could not hold him,
how with gush of blood and water he slipped his earthly life,
and how his mother may have caressed and kissed those blood-stained hands.
I think about this seed of Yahweh, this son of man, planted in a cave of earth,
confined to cold, dark stone
until the tomb could not contain him,
how he stretched and rose, this bread of life,
and how he comes to us still and plants himself in our hearts,
becomes our heartbeat for the love of us.
So our hearts explode with the pain of it and for the love of him.
And we cannot contain him.
Dusted off and reposted from the archives
In the stillness,
Sandy
I will establish your seed forever and build up your throne to all generations. Selah. ~Psalm 89:4 (NASB)
Welcome to the Still Saturday Community where we pause after a busy week, move in quiet pilgrimage, maybe linger a while in some still place, and soak in the beauty of images and reflect on the depth of sparse words. We’d love for you to join us. Grab the button and link up below. We all love to hear if something especially speaks to your heart, but please don’t feel pressured to comment. Simply take some time to be still together, to gaze long and drink deep.
So glad you dusted this off….I’ve never read it. The metaphors are powerful, especially the gushes of blood and water as he was born then died and born again. In us. Wow.
Thanks so much, Jody.
I don’t recall when I’ve ever read anything this powerful and bursting with incomparable imagery. Thank you, my friend, for “dusting it off” and sharing!
Blessings!
Thanks, Martha. Hugs.
It this is just what you dust off, what else lies hidden in those archives? What else lies hidden in your soul, ready to burst forth, ready to be shared like bread to feed *our* souls? So, so powerful. So, so lovely. Oh my!
Your words feed me, dear Lynn. Love you, friend.
Simply stunning, Sandra. So glad you brought it out of archives to bless us again…we cannot contain Him, indeed! Sending much love to you my friend – on this last Still Saturday of 2014. xox
Sending love and hugs to you, Patricia. Love you big. xoxo
I am speechless. Thank you, Sandy. And Bless you.
I *am* blessed, Sheila–by your friendship and our Frio sisterhood.
So grateful you dusted this one off & reposted it! Beautiful thoughts in every single line. I am so grateful this morning to be reminded there is nothing which contains Him or holds Him back. And it was for each of us. Thank you for this reminder this morning. May you have a blessed year ahead!
Thanks so much, Joanne. Praying this coming year will spill over with reminders of Him.
Sandy, this is so beautiful! Thanks for reposting it & for hosting. God bless & Happy New Year!
Thank you, Laurie. Happy New Year to you. xo