Breath of Heaven

Two or three times a year, my church publishes a devotional book, for Advent, for Lent/Easter, for support for teams of church members on mission trips, and other occasions. Church members are asked to write devotionals for the booklets, and sometimes I’m asked to write one. This year, for Advent, our assignment was to choose a favorite Christmas carol and a scripture passage, and to write a devotional based on our experience with those things. This is the one I wrote, inspired by the song Breath of Heaven. The song’s title has the link to  Amy Grant’s singing the song.

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I trust you to save me, Lord God, and I won’t be afraid. My power and my strength come from you, and you have saved me. Isaiah 12:2 (Contemporary English Version)

Breath of Heaven

We have a niece who had a baby about a year and a half ago. While her husband rushed into the hospital’s emergency room to get a wheelchair for her, she gave birth to their third child, a baby boy, in the front seat of their vehicle. Now there’s a birth story.

The birth story Mary has to tell is pretty impressive, too. Well, more impressive, I guess. After all, it is Jesus.

There’s not much detail about Mary, herself, in the Bible. If you go online, there’s lots of information about her, but it’s all pretty much speculation.

I do wonder, though, if Jesus ever said to her, “Please tell me about the night I was born.” It’s not a matter of his not knowing all the facts, but I like to think that he would appreciate hearing her tell the story.

(He listens and responds. As she narrates the tale, she’s also pondering about her own feelings and struggles.)

 

“Oh, Mother! An angel? Were you surprised? Were you scared?”

         Holy father you have come
         And chosen me now to carry your son

“And Aunt Elizabeth, too? Cousin John? Really?”

         Must I walk this path alone?
         Be with me now

“I remember hearing about that census. All the way to Bethlehem. Quite a trip.”

         Lighten my darkness
         Pour over me your holiness

“No place to stay? Then what happened?

         Do you wonder as you watch my face
         If a wiser one should have had my place

“Shepherds came all the way into town? That was a hike!”

         Help me be strong
         Help me be
         Help me

“What was the hardest part for you, Mother?”

         Breath of heaven
         Lighten my darkness
         Pour over me your holiness
         For you are holy
         Breath of heaven

“You are the bravest woman I know, Mother. I am grateful that you were willing to do what you were asked to do.”

 

 

Reflection
You may have heard two people tell the “same” story, but from really different points of view. This holiday season, think about spending time with friends and relatives that you think you know pretty well. Listen to their stories and appreciate how the details may be different from the way you might remember those occasions.

 

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(We writers are asked to include some bio information. This is what I wrote: My sister was born the October that I was 4 1/2 years old. My mother says that, that December, I would drape small baby blankets over my head and shoulders and wander around the house, stopping at each room, and shaking my head and muttering “No room. No room. No room.” Then, I would erect my toy ironing board, drape IT with blankets, and sit under it, holding a doll. Apparently I would do that for hours, leaving her free to take care of the new baby in the house.

 

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