The handmaid of the Lord (Meg Hunter Kilmer)

Yesterday the world stopped spinning.

The whole earth trembled.

Heaven came down to earth

as the Word was made flesh

in my womb.

Mine.

Though I am no queen,

no prophetess,

no Judith or Esther or Deborah.

Here in this nowhere town

dwells the creator of all the world.

I cannot say if there were trumpets,

though I heard them,

nor if choirs of angels sang God’s glory.

I only know my heart thrilled,

my spirit soared,

my soul sang

as the angel of the Lord called me God’s own

and asked me to bear his Son.

But that was yesterday.

Today the angel is gone,

and so too the astonishing peace,

the silence in my heart so loud it fairly shook.

Today I am not wandering

like one in a dream,

a secret smile touching my lips

as my hand returns again and again to rest

over the spot where Life himself has chosen to live.

Joy still, yes, and wonder.

Who am I that my Lord should come to me?

Still my heart is full and still my head spins with the glory of it all.

But today I have to think:

what next?

Perhaps I imagined it,

fell asleep in the warm afternoon sun

and turned the words of the prophet

into my fate.

Perhaps it was a dream,

a temptation,

a trick of the light.

And yet there has never been anything so real

as that shocking moment of peace,

that clarity of confusion.

Nobody could hear what I heard

and see what I saw

and not believe.

But they did not see.

Nor did they hear.

And today I must wake from this dream I am living

and act.

What will he say, when I tell him this thing that has never been told before?

Will he rage against what cannot be believed,

call me out for a liar and call my neighbors out with stones?

He would have that right.

But no.

My Joseph so gentle could never.

He will not shout, will not condemn.

But still he may not believe.

And the sorrow in his eyes would break my heart

if it did not bear for another Heart than his.

He may turn from me,

divorce me,

and leave me alone with this Child who will save him, too.

I am not afraid,

exactly.

My life is not my own.

And He who has chosen me will take me where I need to be.

Though that may be death or disgrace,

though a sword may pierce my heart,

I know He will be with me.

But

but

but I cannot help but hope

that the love of this good man will be stronger than his doubt,

that my parents will believe,

that I and my son will be safe

As I walk from the radiance of the angel’s presence

into the darkness of the unknown,

God-with-me guides my steps,

though we may walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

And while my flesh may fear,

my heart will choose to trust.

Even when I cannot see him

I will be faithful:

the handmaid of the Lord.

--Meg Hunter Kilmer, The Day After the Annunciation

Image source:  Arthur Hughes, The Annunciation, https://www.wikiart.org/en/arthur-hughes/the-annunciation

Poem source