Who in all the world would understand? This holy secret, silent, yet unknown outside of my womb. The angel spoke your name, Elizabeth. He told me of your wonder and of the babe. Just look at you. He kicks and your belly writhes and the smile oh, the smile on your aged face. Your wrinkles deepen as laugh-light sparks from your faded eyes. Renewed, you are. Made new, fruitful, forever a part of the grand story, His story, of redemption. Hold my hand. Tell me what I already know but need to hear afresh. How God supplies the strength we both will need. I am not afraid, yet I am. The war in my spirit rages as the flesh across my belly tightens and bulges. But here you stand before me, evidence of our God weaving the promise of atonement within me. Within us. These infant sons we bear, destined…
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Arundelle Green 