We are awaiting the birth of a grandchild.
We expect it’s a girl. That’s all we know.
But we already love her.
Already anticipate her, want her,
want the best for her,
hope for her what she can’t yet imagine.
She can’t see us, know us, suspect us.
But here we are, and our delight is real.
She hasn’t been born yet,
but she’s real. She’s alive.
She’s here. Just hidden.
But growing, listening.
You are here, even the part of you
about to be born again,
still becoming, still unseen.
And there is One you can’t see
or know or understand, who delights in you,
wants you, wants the best for you,
hopes for you what you can’t imagine.
Every one of us is so loved,
our arrival, even as we become,
so anticipated, by a God
so expectant.
—May 2, 2018