Birth

She labored thirty-four years ago today.  'Twas the first day my skin felt air, lungs breathed it too.  Freed from womb darkness light became bright and assumed.

And I've been thinking about how many births I've experienced since then.  Five from my own womb.  Just yesterday four butterflies hatched and we observed a turtle sending her eggs into the ground to grow full.

Friendships birthed, too.  Six years ago today I started walking with a dear friend nearly every Monday.  Six years of Mondays fills the heart in different ways than air fills the lungs.  But those Mondays have filled good.

Marriage, mothering, ministering....all birthed in my life through the years of living.  Filling these years and making them something.

I don't pretend to comprehend what that something is.  Only observe that it's happening.

Mostly, though, the birth of the Spirit in me, at what age I'm not rightly sure, keeps actively growing.

This body, breathing air as from birth, is slowly deteriorating.  But this Spirit, born a bit later, builds in me stronger and surer.

And though there's much more work to do in me than I care to consider, I rest in the promise that the Spirit of God in me will continue to do His work until the day of Jesus Christ.

To Him be all glory.

photos: trips to a local garden