Hidden lurks a cancer cell, multiplying maliciously, avoiding detection
Hidden lurks the terrorist, plotting lethal carnage in devotion to his twisted cause
Hidden lurks desire, germinating insidiously, begetting sin and death
But gifts hidden may also lie, stowed in a closet and awaiting Christmas morn
Hidden love may lie, disclosed in measured doses ‘till risking all,
she is openly declared from the rooftops
Hidden an embryo develops, nurtured in his mother’s uterus, intricately woven in that secret place
At a cottage in Judah’s hill country
Two mothers-in-waiting seek respite out of the public eye
Both harbor hidden secrets, hopes and fears, rumors of angels
One blushes, Sarah-like, with the child of late autumn, her reproach at long last removed
The other stammers, scarcely in her spring,
the mystery of her conception ill-suited to credible explanation
The angel Gabriel, God’s ultrasound, has disclosed the advent of their two boys
The older son, Israel’s latest prophet, Elijah revived,
will prepare the way of the Lord at the close of an age
The younger son, a royal son of David, The divine Son of God,
will herald a new day for Israel, God’s salvation available to all
At a cottage in Judah’s hill country
As two mothers-in-waiting meet
One son dances in utero, declaring a joy deeper than cousinly affection
Like Esau of old, the womb a harbinger of destiny,
the older shall serve the younger, a witness to Christ from womb to tomb
And with a knowing that only an expectant mother can bear,
Elizabeth pronounces blessing upon Mary and her womb
As sang ancient Hannah, Samuel’s mother, so Mary magnified the Lord with a hymn of praise
A song of the powerless, the desperate, the voiceless
A hymn of the hidden, the no-count, the ignorable
In one small event, God’s mercy toward a Jewish peasant girl, the greater event lies hidden
The mercy of the one who spangled heaven’s glory, scooping down low to embrace one hidden
Hidden lie the eternal purposes of God, germinating slowly and deliberately until the fullness of time
Hidden, God’s grace is embedded in your life, and mine–creating, redeeming, making all things new
Hidden, like leaven in dough, God’s kingdom in the world permeates and preserves
Hidden, the risen Lord awaits the archangel’s trumpet call,
to bring the kingdom in its glorious fullness
Hidden, not erased
Hidden, not forgotten
Hidden, embryo-like, until all is ready
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