I wanted it. Desired it greatly. Yearned for its coming. But when it did come, I fought, resisted, ran, hid away. I said, "Go home!" I didn't know the fire of God could be more than a gentle glow or a cozy consolation. I didn't know it could come in as a blaze ... a wildfire uncontrolled, searing my soul, chasing my old ways, smoking them out. Only when I stopped running, gave up the chase, surrendered, did I know the fire's flaming as consolation and joy. Only then could I welcome the One whose fire I had long sought.
I welcomed each pregnancy with thanksgiving. To feel life within my womb, little hands and feet tapping from within, this is extraordinary. Then the births. I entered into each one of them, feeling the crescendo of pain until it became so strong I felt I could not survive. In a way, I saw it like death. Prayer came easy.