Tuesday, February 8, 2011

2011.02.09 In Whose Hands? A Divine Love Story

I will tell you a divine story. A love/Love story with a catch.

It’s about a child, not Jesus but christ ( you don’t have to be Christian to be a christ, divinity in human form)

A child is born in a hospital surrounded by sterile instruments and blue-scrubbed doctors and nurses. The baby’s mother is not Mary but Susie. Susie and the unborn infant do all the work.

In the waiting room a family sits on the edges of their chairs. A kindly hospital chaplain is the runner carrying reports from the birthing room.

Everyone is worried because Susie is, well, past her prime for bearing a child and this is her first.

When this modern day infant emerges to screech her welcome to planet earth everyone applauds until the nurse who has cleaned and wrapped the child hands her to Susie and says “I’m so sorry.”

The little girl had multiple birth defects, some visible and some invisible, some physical and some mental, all of them life threatening.

When the father came out to tell the assembled loved ones he was crying. What was wrong? He had to tell them, “Our little girl is not perfect.”

The family surrounded the couple and their deformed daughter with love—and commitment to give this child every privilege of human life they could offer, and to keep her alive as long as possible.

As time went on the child grew to her teens. She was cheerful and a delight to all who met her, but because of her condition her affect was always bright and did not register other feelings.

The girl spent more time being rushed to the hospital for resuscitation and other procedures than in her parents’ embrace. Each time the family would gather and pray and each time the child would be brought back to life. Over and over. And each time the family would rejoice and praise God. Another day of life for their beloved daughter.

Anne, a neighbor and good friend of the family’s sighed heavily and said to a friend. “Honestly if she were my girl I’d have instituted a DNR long ago.”

“What? I can’t believe you’re saying this.” responded her friend with a glare of disapproval. Anne gave her not an apology or an explanation but her tears.

What is divine in this story? Where is Love?

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