The Birth of God as a Human (A Love Story)
I don’t know where she came from, but God took notice. She wasn’t like the other women of the world, made of the same stuff as men, clay as God had imagined flesh to be. No, she was not made of that but somehow of all things good and etheric manifest in material form. Her arms shone silvery like the still light of the moon and her belly was as fast and fiery as the sun who races across the sky, always anticipating the next big thing. The curve of her dress suggested the firmament of night and God wondered if the starlight came from within her or if it had gently fallen and decided to stay, gracing the inviting field where it had landed.
He saw how she carried each object of the earth with tenderness and when she picked up a small sack of spelt he found himself wishing for the first time to be other than himself… ”Oh, if I could be that bag of grain held in the arms of a loving mother, then all would be well”. He suddenly realized that he had no mother and imagined that if he had, the earth would naturally come into a harmony it had never known. A plan… began as a seed and grew to be the greatest idea on this side of the cosmos.
He watched her until he found that he could watch no more. That night, he came to her and bowed down, professing his love. She loved him too, for it was only in her deepest prayers that she had ever known comfort and home.
To the song of the lark, as she lay in his arms, he promised he would never leave her and their child. She wondered how it was that all felt fine and normal. She had been told by the Angel that this would come to pass but had written it off as a dream or a wish. Still somewhere in her was the knowing that she had come here for this and the thought of being a mother now brought the lightest ease.
God made all the arrangements, and the day could not have been lovelier. As no simple bed would be worthy for his bride and new son, he lay out a carpet of hay, a golden mattress that he had grown and woven of love itself. Oxen, solid as a castle wall blessed the scene with protection and the mooing cows with full teat offered the promise of plenty. The hens and geese gathered in anticipation and even the fluffy house cat, who usually saw herself as too fancy for the barn, snuck into the rafters for there was something in the air.
When the moment came, the silence WAS golden, and never had the word pregnant been so apt, for here, the world became possibility itself as time hinged between what was and what could be. The birth was short and ecstatic… first a pinprick of light shining forth and then another and another until they joined into a river that broke a great gash in space and time. There, on a waterfall of bright blood, rushed forth the new Man. A baby! Unlike any other! “A baby!” They all cried. And cry they did, for never had perfection like this laid a foot on our soil and there was nothing else to do but water it with tears of joy and bliss.
The Light of the World - Frank Wesley
