Hoped-for Son

By Sylva Rae Edding

We are not disappointed,

Though he came with pain—

To our home, no child

Comes unhoped for.

Will we grudge the time we waited?

We just regret how

Fast the times goes now.

What of Christ the Anointed?

Awaited for millennia,

Hoped for, longed for,

He came as small, as painfully

As our son, whom we celebrated

Yesterday; who, because of Christ,

Is ours twice:

Here, where death still reigns,

And there, where death wanes,

Where love is in the sunlight

And the cooling rains.