4.16.22

       I lie here in this golden room, the melting honey sunshine, Spring-bright, pouring over every sill. I lie here surrounded by my offspring, from the smallest in my womb, to the tallest, my firstborn- I only lie here because someone else gave up their freedom for me. My father, tenth child, never should have been born, culturally, economically, perhaps even rationally. But had not my grandmother laid herself on a bed of pain and birthed him, I would not lie here today. Had not my mother chosen Love over Comfort, my children would not crowd around my head, blessings each of them, even as they crowd and overwhelm me. Oh God, be it unto me, thy handmaid! Make me thy more willing servant. Make me thy more trusting slave. And the sun pours in, and the sky is large. What a good earth the Father has made for those who have the eyes to see. Father, give me those eyes.