Good Friday Reflection by an Expecting Mom

Birth on Good Friday by Raphael

Good Friday reflection from a woman soon to become a mom to twin daughters.

By Amanda

These words came to me as I have been preparing my heart, mind, and body for the pre-term delivery of my twin daughters in the next week or two.

They could come on Friday…

People will gather for vigils at noon
or in dimly lit churches
filled with soft candlelight to hear the story
of long ago.
Of thorns and crowns,
nails and wooden beams.
There will be no tenebrae for me
as I enter a room of strangers,
surrounded by metal instruments yielded
not by the hands of Roman soldiers as
implements of torture
but as tools of
healing.
But the fear is still there.

It won’t be under the noonday sun,
or a sky that suddenly turned black.
Instead it will be under
cold
fluorescent
lights
that betray no sense of time where
my arms will be stretched
wide,
as far as they can reach:
I love you this much.

I may cry that I thirst,
but there is no water,
or wine,
or vinegar
for my parched, dry mouth.
No sword will pierce my side
but
there will be water
and blood.

They will lay his body in the depths of a tomb
and from the dark recesses of my womb,
where only God and modern science can see
they will pull out
new life.

And my daughters will breathe their first breaths,
and cry their first cries,
and I will remember that in him was
LIFE.
That the life was the light of the people,
and the darkness did not overcome it.

Then Friday will be truly,
remarkably,
miraculously

GOOD

Amanda is a daughter, a sister, a wife, and kitty momma. She is a student and a pastor. She’s a baker and dishwasher. She’s a beloved child of God. This post originally appeared on thedoveandthepomegranate.blogspot.com