My heart is pregnant and heavy with you, as I was the night I labored with you, for you.
My soul in the travail of labor
Until I get to hold you, finally, on the other side
Each day a more intense contraction
The ticking clock a crescendo of anticipation
Under me I feel the damp rocky clay as I stand bare foot at your grave.
It’s cool and the soft rain makes it even colder.
Startled, my bowed head jerks upward. I hold my breath.
I shake violently as adrenaline begins to course through my body.
That was unmistakable. I fall to my knees and hands raised shout, “Hallelujah!”
The notes I have been waiting for tear through the atmosphere, filling the sky, louder, purer, higher than any earthly noise
The earth under me begins to shake and with the terrifying strength of Jehovah splits open wide.
And in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye, there you are being raised whole before me,
I weep tears of thanksgiving and rejoice as I meet you in the air with the Overcomer of the grave.
I can finally rest from my labour. You are finally delivered.
And so am I.
I finished this poem near midnight, 5 years to the hour that my water broke with my first born child Titus Bristow.
Today on his birthday I remember that our great God is not the God of the dead but of the living. I used to not know what that phrase meant. When Titus was laid to rest during a severe thunderstorm, Tanner’s grandpa keep shouting to make himself heard over the sound of the thunder and the rain, “God is the God of the living!” “God is the God of the living!” I understood then that it means we never die. Today, Titus is living a full exciting life in the presence of the Lord and one day all things will be restored and his body will be resurrected. I don’t know if I will sleep in Christ or meet him at his second coming but either way, I’m full of hope, looking forward to that blessed day.
“In hope of eternal life, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began”