Dear Beloved Congregation,
The gift of a favorite poem by Bob Janis Dillon, shared with you during this season of uncertainty, of waiting, of darkness, of lights, of gratitude for all that has been, and hope for all that yet may be:
“When god was pregnant”
when god was pregnant
her belly swelled up like song
’til she was rounder than the seasons of the world.
her legs grew larger than the questions
raised by wondering boys,
her breasts filled the emptiness
of one moment’s yearning for another.
when god was pregnant the angels
fetched cold towels and practiced breathing,
learning anticipation: an artifice born of desperation,
a waiting room trick, muttering
love into the dark places.
when god was pregnant she ached. she cried.
she howled at her own power to ruin
a comfortable past. her heaves were not just
the time and tides, but divulged
the naked risk of life itself. her sovereign choice
was to become strong enough
to tear apart all plans, to break open the careful hold,
to lose control and therefore gain the loss.
small wonder we carry a little of her madness, and tend
to give our hearts away to make us whole.
Happy holidays, blessed holy days, with love,
Rev. Carmen Emerson