things I want to ask her (4.3)
John 1:1-16
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life,and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. 8 He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.
9 The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. 12 But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. 15 (John bore witness about him, and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.’”) 16 For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.
artwork by Spencer Moyle
things I want to ask her
What was it like? Years
of faithfulness in the little things,
of temple walks, of washing
feet, of hunger, of fear,
joy, laughter, trust
and then—
Did it feel like more
of everything wonderful you
ever knew?
Did it feel like waking up
to see your room bathed
in dawn’s gentle light?
Did you feel the weight
of the request, of the baby
in your ever-growing abdomen,
or did you simply hold him
loosely, knowing
what you needed to know
and no more?
Did you feel worthy enough, or
did you too, feel so completely
ordinary for such a time,
such a task as this?
When did you start to sing?
What it must have been like,
the Spirit of God, the same
that moved over the face
of the deep, the same that danced
on the day the world—
your world—our world—
was birthed from nowhere,
now a baby housed
in your teenage womb.
and then—
God in your arms,
in your heart,
birthed from your small body,
covered in your blood,
sweaty and dirty and full of light.
for more of Spencer’s art, visit his instagram @spacermoyle
