Lord, what is this baby?
As described in The Issue, I dreamed for years about having a baby. The content of the dreams varied, but I was always either pregnant or with a baby.
I wrote this poem on May 3, 2001 after waking from a dream in which I opened double doors and walked through with a baby in my arms. A black dog clamped down on my hand. I pried the dog’s mouth open and took my hand out of its mouth, still holding the baby.
Lord, what is this baby that I am holding?
Or is it something in me you are still molding?
I was holding it in my arms, so it is already here.
Open my blind eyes; please unplug my ears.
Somehow I think I need to know its name
So I can stop this search and feeling so much pain.
Since you haven’t told me yet, I know I must wait
Until I’m led on the right path for your names’ sake.
Now, more than nine years later, I know the baby’s name: Message in a Word. Birthed through me, it originated from none other than God Himself. Here is the baby wrapped in its beautiful cover.
