A Labor of Love

The first time I heard this song, it brought me to tears. Jill Phillips sings it on Andrew Peterson's Behold the Lamb of God album, and we saw them in concert on Elijah's birthday a few weeks ago. I cried again, hearing her sing it live, as I held my one year old baby boy. This is a more accurate portrayal of the difficulty Mary faced than the sweet, but unrealistic, lyrics of "Away in a Manger." They remind me that we Protestants many times minimize the awesome role Mary played in God's sovereign plan. I think we try so hard to be careful to not give her more credit than is due, but God did choose this young girl to be the mother of His Child. So, I think she was fully human, but also exceptionally brave and worthy of a lot of respect. And, as a mother myself, it makes my heart just squeeze, imagining all she faced that night on the hard floor of a cave, giving birth for the first time while surrounded by animals and manure, and probably just her new husband with her. What a life she lived, and what a willing servant she was, facing so much unknown.

Labor of Love

It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Calloused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David's town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love