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.

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