When unbelievably tragic, horrific events happen I go inside. Not physically, but mentally. My mind starts churning at a rate that is not even slowed by sleep. Evil events such as those that transpired last Friday in Connecticut. Evil so intense that the world is silent, even if for a second, because of the pain. The shock.
As a mom, of course your heart is broken for another mom. For her sorrow and her pain. For all the things she’ll be grieving … because you’re a mom and you know. You may not know the extent of the pain, but you know it would break you. Crush you, even, if not for hope. If not for Jesus.
I’m reminded of another Mom. One that was without a Mom by her side in the dark on the ground having a baby. A baby that evil was trying to prevent from even being born because evil wanted to win. A mom that knew the joy of seeing her baby for the first time but knowing he would die.
I recently heard, “Labor of Love” by Andrew Peterson. The lyrics are as follows:
It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David’s townAnd the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother’s hand to holdIt was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of loveNoble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David’s town
In the middle of the nightSo he held her and he prayedShafts of moonlight on his faceBut the baby in her wombHe was the maker of the moonHe was the Author of the faithThat could make the mountains moveIt was a labor of painIt was a cold sky aboveBut for the girl on the ground in the darkWith every beat of her beautiful heartIt was a labor of loveFor little Mary full of graceWith the tears upon her faceIt was a labor of love