One of the happiest times of my life was when I was pregnant with my son, James. I remember enjoying the growth, the movement, and an overwhelming peaceful anticipation. I know there were inconveniences, pain, fears. Injecting blood thinners twice a day until I was bruised beyond any other experience, constant false labor, worries that his little heart wasn't beating properly.
In my parish now there are so many women who are anticipating the birth of another child. I look at each of them with a quiet prayer. I pray for their health, their gentle submission to the fullness of time, and their joy as they welcome a new child. I long to touch them and bless the life within them.
As Advent begins these are the things I contemplate.
Did Mary talk to Jesus in her womb, sing to him, lay her hands on him through her belly as he moved?
Did Mary shine with hope as she moved through her day as so many women I see now do?
Did Mary's heart leap daily with joy as the new life of our Lord grew withing her?
Did Mary acknowledge the daily pains and discomforts of pregnancy in that last month, and yet acknowledge the hopeful suffering those pains reflected?
I so in Advent I strive to recall the last month of pregnancy and share in that anticipation of the women I see at Mass. I find myself hugging my belly as I pray and recall the beauty of every moment of that last month.
I think of all of the times I pray to be able to walk with Jesus and do his will. But Advent is marked for me with a different prayer. At this time I pray to be united with Mary in her anticipation. I pray to forget my barren womb and to join in the joy of creation.
In my parish now there are so many women who are anticipating the birth of another child. I look at each of them with a quiet prayer. I pray for their health, their gentle submission to the fullness of time, and their joy as they welcome a new child. I long to touch them and bless the life within them.
As Advent begins these are the things I contemplate.
Did Mary talk to Jesus in her womb, sing to him, lay her hands on him through her belly as he moved?
Did Mary shine with hope as she moved through her day as so many women I see now do?
Did Mary's heart leap daily with joy as the new life of our Lord grew withing her?
Did Mary acknowledge the daily pains and discomforts of pregnancy in that last month, and yet acknowledge the hopeful suffering those pains reflected?
I so in Advent I strive to recall the last month of pregnancy and share in that anticipation of the women I see at Mass. I find myself hugging my belly as I pray and recall the beauty of every moment of that last month.
I think of all of the times I pray to be able to walk with Jesus and do his will. But Advent is marked for me with a different prayer. At this time I pray to be united with Mary in her anticipation. I pray to forget my barren womb and to join in the joy of creation.