by Carrie Arnold, Matt’s Mother

On a starry, starry October night,
his mother labored to birth him,
this co-creation of God.
She pushed and she panted,
she groaned, she yelled,
she sobbed, she gritted her teeth.
And finally,
in a gush of blood and water,
this child of the Light came into the light.
And his mother laughed and cried
and thanked God for the incredible gift of new life
she had nurtured within her very self.

She wrapped her son in a garment of white
and brought him to the font of life
where this child of Light was immersed in its holy waters
and claimed as a child of God.
And his mother took delight in his presence
and marveled at his wisdom
and pondered in her heart
the miracle that God had entrusted her
with this precious child of Light.

On a starry, starry January night,
this precious child of Light
could no longer find the light within himself.
He held a gun to his head,
and in a sudden gush of blood and matter,
a bullet extinguished his light.
And his mother labored to relinquish him
to his new life.
She groaned, she yelled,
she sobbed, she gritted her teeth.

And she wrapped his body in a garment of white
and brought this child of Light to the font of life
where his body was sprinkled with its holy waters
and he was proclaimed a child of God.
And the angels led him into paradise
while his mother descended into hell.

But his mother, too, is a child of the Light.
And by the grace of God,
she knew that hell was not to be her permanent dwelling place.
So she groans and she yells,
she sobs and she grits her teeth
as she longs for the child who left her much too soon.

And images of light and darkness and death and resurrection
bounce around what is left of her mind.
And by the grace of God,
the rubber of her faith meets the road of her life,
and she waits in joyful hope,
oh, yes, she waits in joyful hope.