Our Wonderfully Made

Rocking this baby boy, lights turned down, singing our favourite Christmas bedtime lullaby, my eyes well with tears, as my heart is suddenly overwhelmed by the greatness of this moment.

It occurs to me, that this will likely be the first, and last, Christmas I’ll be swinging, walking, and rocking my baby boy to sleep. Looking down at him, I take in the outline of his face from the small crack of light shining in through the door. I roll him closer to my chest, grasping the weight of his body. My lips touch his cheek as I softly kiss him while whispering song.

Taking in this moment, I smile at his innocence and his vulnerability. He puts his whole trust in me, knowing that he can safely and soundly rest in my arms. Knowing that no matter how he moves or squirms (or spits out his soother!), I’ll be right there holding him tight. He feels my presence and immediately is calm, knowing his mama is here. We are connected beyond how I could have ever imagined.

My voice cracking, I sing to us both,

“O holy night the stars are brightly shining

It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth

…

…

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new glorious morn”

The weary world… lyrics over 150 years old, and yet they ring truer today than ever before. I’m saddened thinking of just how weary our world is.

How much energy is spent hurting others or feeling hurt. How we are so quick to judge, quick to assume, quick to fault others. How much time is wasted worrying about what others may think, trying to convince ourselves that we don’t belong, we don’t fit in, we aren’t good enough. How broken we are that we can’t sit across the table from those in our own family. How offended we get when someone doesn’t fill a void in our lives, as we expect them to.

We worry all the time. We get worked up around celebrations like birthdays and holidays, wanting to look our best, act our best, and at least for the day, look as if we have it all together.

We are heartbroken as our dreams slip through our grasp. We wonder if what we really yearn for will ever actually come. And when it does, we are too frightened to feel joy, from the fear of what may be around the corner as it all seems “too good to be true”.

And yet, the lyrics go, “A thrill of HOPE (!!), the weary world rejoices..”

I love this! Our world is broken, shattered actually, and yet there is not only hope, but a THRILL of hope! And through the lips of this weary world, we are told to REJOICE!

To rejoice in the thrill of what is to come, even though we don’t have a hot clue as to when or how it is to come. To trust that this weariness won’t last forever.

Years ago, after losing Lyric, I had a script painting done by a talented artist in Winnipeg, Kal Barteski.

It reads,

“So be truly glad,

there is wonderful joy ahead.”

1 Peter 1:6

At first, it was to remind me to stay hopeful, that in this life there is joy ahead. It was a hope for me that one day we would hold our baby. The text for me at the time, was all about recovering from heartache, and feeling joy.

Since then, I’ve come to realize that this text isn’t actually a promise for wonderful joy here on earth (although not to say you can’t have joy here either!). The text is actually referring to when Jesus comes again to take away all the pain and suffering. Wonderful joy in the life to come.

And this is what the thrill of hope, worth our rejoicing, is all about! There is no promise that life should be full of nonstop happiness and bliss. We are told that life will be hard, and that when hardships come (not if – WHEN), we are to call on Jesus for support, guidance, His unconditional love and grace.

Just as Orlo can soundly sleep in my arms, knowing my presence and love, so can we feel the warmth of God’s unconditional love for us. As a new mama, I understand just a little bit more of how BIG God’s love for us must be. Reminds me of how much peace and comfort can be found in His rocking arms – if I just seek His presence. And when I do seek Him, I can feel His presence calming me, just as Orlo feels mine.

Thanking God for showing up in my life through all the heartache, and also this incredible joy, a bold image comes to my mind as I keep singing softly to this babe in my arms.

“Fall on your knees

O hear the angels’ voices

O night divine

O night when Christ was born

O night divine o night

O night divine”

I imagine the act of kneeling down to His glory, and surrendering. Letting go of all my plans, all my pride, all my selfishness. Giving him all my hurts, all my insecurities, and all my questions. Trusting that His plan is always better than mine. Allowing Him into my heart to do a new thing. To give me the strength to follow Him always and avoid being distracted by our society and culture. To pick me up when I fail (continually), giving me the grace and mercy I need.

To think that Jesus came through this world just as we all have – through the womb of a mother, is so humbling. This Christmas more than ever, I am struck by the magnitude of this imagery. That even Jesus was cared for, cried, had needs only his caregivers could meet. And then for God to give his only son to die for the sins of this weary world… I can hardly fathom the thought.

As I softly sing this song over and over again to my baby boy sleeping soundly in my arms, I feel showered with love for him, for this life, and for this moment.

I think of Mary, picturing her rocking Jesus as a baby in her arms, overwhelmed with love for her son too.

Life. It’s messy, hard, beautiful, confusing, thrilling, and crazy. We are so small in the grand scheme of it all, yet God has called us through even the mundane diaper changes and laundry. He sees each of us, and calls us worthy. He thinks we are so worthy, that He sent his son to this broken world to save us. To teach us how to love one another, how to forgive, how to give each other grace, and how to serve each another.

As I lay our little babe down to sleep for the night (or at least until his next feeding 😅), I linger a little longer. I tell myself that tomorrow I’m going to do better. I’m going to love harder and forgive quicker. I thank God for giving me the privilege of being a woman and for the experience of giving birth and life. I ask God to help me continually be a better version of myself because I know before noon tomorrow I’m going to slip up. I know I need Him to walk alongside me each day and give me the strength I need to be better. I thank Him for loving me so much that he sent His son into this weary world to offer a thrill and hope for what is to come.