The arms of love

This begins with a breath 
From the waters you were blessed 
Pushing through the pain and blood 
Into the arms of love 
And your mother’s face above 

Before you came she was afraid 
In the night she cried and prayed 
Oh God am I strong enough, 
To be the arms of love 
To be the mother of this son 

O Beautiful one; 
My child my son 
We rejoice 
From generation 
To generation 
We rejoice 

All, like sheep, have gone astray 
But you will call them back one day 
By the marks of pain and blood 
Back to the arms of love; 
The good Father’s face above 


Psalm 131 (The Message)

I haven't meddled where I had no business or fantasized grandiose plans.

I've kept my feet on the ground, I've cultivated a quiet heart.
Like a baby, content in it's mother's arms, my soul is a baby content.

Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope. Hope now and hope always.