Oh Crosby
Months ago when we heard his name, we liked the sound of it. Crosby means "at the cross" and we liked the sound of that too.
It dawned on me much later as we were entering the Lenten season that we might have our first grandchild born on Easter. Turns out, he was born a week late, just before Easter on Holy Thursday, the day Jesus sat around a table with his disciples for the Last Supper.
That is day Jesus put on an apron and washed their feet. He was giving us glimpses of serving others, of humble love. You might know the day as Maundy Thursday. Long ago, it was called Sheer Thursday meaning "clean and bright". That spoke to me, but I was thinking of sheer as in a curtain we almost see through, but not quite.
The day Jesus said goodbye was a day we said hello.
That's enough to blow my mind and break my heart.
Newborns can make us feel as though we catch a glimpse of something, a mystery, another world, another love. We bump up against something we don't quite grasp and we are humbled. That is how I felt on the day Crosby was born.
Waiting for your child's chosen day can be both beauty and heartbreak. I know some of you are still waiting. I hope you take courage and strength far beyond what you can see from a living God who holds all things in his loving hands. It is both hard and true that there are many stories to parenthood and always a chosen time.
I wrote a poem about Crosby's birth, Monica's courage in labor, Sean right there beside her, all of our prayers that went before him and so much waiting and anticipation leading up to his chosen day.
Oh Crosby
We waited years for your smile
Dreaming of a new heartbeat,
Forty days from ashes
To the rising sunshine
Stronger with every uphill mile
Passing bread and wine
When we reached the last day
We remembered the time
Laughing and holding
Around the long grain pine
Oh, Crosby,
Meet me at the cross
On the other side of grace
Cry out loud for happiness
Just to see your face
You were a child born in the night
Before the moon slipped away
He drew back heaven’s curtain
And we saw worlds collide
To the music of northern lights
Dancing on your heels
Shining in your eyes
We were flying paper kites
With long ribbon tails
In electric fields
Oh, Crosby,
Meet me at the cross
Live up to your name
Cry out loud for happiness
Help her forget the pain
I felt heaven dip her wing
Toward the Pacific sea
For barely seven pounds of gold
Had just broken free
She let go the kite string
Felt it catch the wind
Give weight to our ten dreams
Tied to his wedding ring
Know this when you soar
We are hope to send
Oh, Crosby,
Meet me at the cross
On the other side of grace
Cry out loud for happiness
Just to see your face
Welcome to the world, Crosby!
Photo by Sean Conlin.