25 December 2014

Holding the Baby Who Holds Us

Taking a newborn baby out of a car seat is one of the most nerve wracking activities on the face of this green earth. You unbuckle the sometimes bafflingly complex mechanism, gently pull each of baby's arms out from under its strap. You slide a hand under baby's head, the other under his tiny little bottom, and gently lift. The baby feels surprisingly heavy in your hands, given how little he actually weighs. He is utterly and completely relaxed - weak and vulnerable - and you have every bit of him in your hands. You quickly bring him right to you, resting his small, warm, helpless body against yours.

And you breathe.

You hold that baby so close. You press your lips to his soft cheek ever so softly. You wrap his little hand around just the tip of one of your fingers. You bend your head low over his, whispering sweet nothings to him as you gently rock him.

All of your being wants to protect, care for, and love this sweet creature. He is completely vulnerable and helpless, entirely dependent on others for all comforts, and even for basic survival. In spite of the huge responsibility, this great task of caring for him - for however long or in whatever capacity it might be - there is always that deep peace.

You hold that baby and your heart melts. You melt. Your world slows down and reorients to revolve around this seven pound being, this seven pound creature made in the image of your great God. Everything, quite suddenly, quite gently and subtly, so you aren't even aware of the change, is all going to be ok.

You're going to be ok.

You hold that baby close - that screaming baby, sleeping baby, cooing baby - and all that matters is love.

Even in the tired moments, the frazzled moments, the beyond exhaustion moments, it's all still solidly, steadily, surely a moment of love - by Love for Love.


A long time ago - yet not so long ago - there was a young wife, far from home, who had a baby boy in a stable. Through her free and beautiful and peaceful fiat, we were given a Savior. And how did God choose to save us? Not through a thunder clap and lightning flash, appearing in majesty. No, He came as a baby born of a spotless virgin mother.

Kneel at the foot of that manger. Scoop that baby right up to you and hold Him.

And breathe.

Let that peace take hold of your heart.

Let your heart melt as you hold Him close.

Hold that vulnerable, dependent God-made-man. Smell his little head. Kiss his soft cheek. Count his fingers. Marvel at his perfect little fingernails.

Hold that baby. That peace, that calm, that joy beyond words?

Let that hold you.

Let Him hold you.

That baby bundled in your arms - His human nature veiling the majesty of His Divine Personhood - is holding you.

He's holding you: your fears, your hopes, your loves, your sins, all of you. And as you whisper how much you love Him, He whispers back - I love you more.

The God who holds it all in His hands came down and let Himself be held in our hands.

The Creator in the hands of the created. The Holder of Everything being held by a small someone.


He came back for you. He is your Prince Charming, riding in quietly and gently, to steal you away to your perfect Happily Forever After. He did it all for love... He did it all for you.

And He entered the scene as a baby boy. A baby born to save the world.

Scoop Him up, hold Him close, let your heart melt, still & quiet.

It's all going to be ok.

You're going to be ok.


He came down to get you.

He loved you into being. And when you fell? He came down to scoop you up. To hold you close. To love you boundlessly.

To give you peace beyond measure.

Be still and know that He's God... and He's got this. He's got you.

He's here to hold you. And He's here to stay.  

You're going to be ok.





Day 25... it's Christmas!



Merry Christmas, my friends!!! All of Christ's love and joy to you and yours!!!

15 December 2014

Day 15 (a little on the late side)

Sometimes you get really excited.

You get so very excited to talk about the source and summit of our Faith - the Eucharist - with your class of teens. Your mind is constantly boggled by its intensity and you're so excited because you are in a position to share that intensity with others... because no one else will tell them, you think to yourself. Pat yourself on the back, prepare for the wonder and awe of it all...

and then? Then Jesus laughs a bit and says:

"Oh, my dear and silly Bridget. You don't impart that wonder and awe and love. I do."

And this is so so so important for you to remember... so sometimes Jesus makes it impossible for you to take it into your own hands.

So, class yesterday found me with about 10% of a voice, incredibly tired lungs, and one of the most ear splitting migraines I've had in a while. All of those cool facts, golden nuggets of truth, and philosophical distinctions that are mere human attempts to better our understanding of the mysteries of Faith took a bit of a back seat while I administered medications, vomited, and curled up in the back corner of the large storage closet.

So, I didn't talk as much as I planned. But it was a solid reminder that I don't really do anything. I am not the origin of their faith, I cannot deepen the faith of these teens. Faith is a gift, faith is grace, and I cannot give that gift. I cannot dispense grace. Jesus gives them the greatest Gift of Himself... and does it all Himself.

So the Eucharist class, my favorite class of the year, was an opportunity for humility and trust. It found me with a head of rumpled curls (bobby pins are not friends to migraine enduring heads), a cardigan wrapped around my throat in an attempt to keep it warm and thereby keep some semblance of a voice, and an inability to construct intelligible sentences.

But it was still good. The Brother was our guest speaker, we played our trivia game as planned, and I think we all learned something. God is good, all the time.

Sometimes the only way God can get me to let go of things and let Him have them is through a very visceral, physical inability to hold on to anything at all. Then He takes those messy, painful, crazy, important, living, confused, confusing, wonderful, and terrible things and makes them good.

And I go, "ooooooh, yeah... You're God... I'm not."

But back to unwrapping the Greatest Gift...


07 December 2014

Day 7 (Second Sunday of Advent)



(a lot of Bible text there for the amount of room in the graphic, so maybe crack open your bound Bible)