"Be born in me,
be born in me,
make my heart Your Bethlehem,
be born in me..."
I am feeling a bit shy this afternoon. I haven't been posting for a long time. I'd begun to think that perhaps the silence which had descended...and that I'd known was absolutely, divinely "right" for me in early September...had become my "new normal." I'd wondered if those beautiful, long nights of lying awake -- while words, phrases, stanzas of poetry, lovely sentences wafted through my heart -- were from another chapter...a loved chapter, but one that was now over.
Then, two nights ago, they started to poke through the silence again. Like small shoots of soft green thoughts, as tender as the first crocus through the snow, they came when I least expected them. I lay there, as still as a winter night in Bethlehem, and watched them gather...stars, lambs, wise children, infant ideas...one-by-one they fell upon my silent heart. And I knew.
I don't know what will emerge, but I do know that they will emerge gently, and without the urgent push of the ego's need to "make it happen."
I have learned so much from this time of deep quiet. And because it was a time "without words," there are no words to describe it.
What now falls upon the page may...or may not...include songs or lyrics. What finds its voice will have the freedom to stay silent for days, or even weeks, before singing...there is no timetable...no performance. But something is emerging, something is surfacing....and I am remaining still, listening in awe for the lispings, the whisperings, the barely audible and almost silent songs of angels.
Tonight, as I consider the title to this song, I wonder...if it might be: "be born in Me..." as much as: "be born in me..." Just a question I am in. Have a wonder-filled night.
And by the way, thanks for giving me the space to rediscover this Bethlehem within...it is a most loved, sacred place...and I remain here on my knees.
Here is a link to Francesca Battistelli's"Be Born in Me":