Born of Blood


Born of blood, in labour’s pain,

life contracts, and breathes again;

true love’s sacrificial start

is pregnant with a bleeding heart.


True love bleeds – first, to give life, then, to sustain it. To love means heartache and pain just as surely as joy. It is entering into another’s world, accepting the call to stand with another through joy and pain, sun and rain. It is choosing to give up comfort to carry another’s burdens. It is accepting the highest calling, to lay aside part of one’s own agenda to champion someone else’s. Isn’t this what God did in setting aside His divinity to become like us, to bleed on our behalf? It is a deep privilege to be called a mother, to copy in some small way the sacrificial love of our greatest Hero. Happy Mother’s Day to each of you…



Your x-ray vision uncovers my veins,

The places where the bleeding remains;

My secrets are naked, open to view,

Transparency letting  sunlight through

As closets are emptied and cupboards groomed.

Without all the garbage, there might be room

To unpack myself, grow into my veins,

Discover, exhume my soul’s dead remains.

Long Was I a Prisoner

Long was I a prisoner in rock and plaster cage;

Long had I been locked from sun and kept from pleasure’s page.

You peered in past walls I built, your pick and axe were true;

Your hammering with tools of trade effectively broke through.

And oh! the pain as on my heart you etched your loving hymn;

The light blazed in and blinded me, whose eyes had grown so dim.

As pen scraped glass, my soul bled blood, and in the bleeding, healed;

When clouded panes grew brighter still, my sentence was repealed!

My prison walls have been transformed into an abbey bright;

Your light shines through transparent soul, a window full of light.

And now the light can shine both ways, a barrier no more;

As you light me, I light my world, and in the lighting, soar!