This year the Christmas
song “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant has new meaning for me. It is the story of Mary’s journey of
faith and fear. As I listen to the
song, I picture the faces and bellies of 15 pregnant Brazilian prisoners that Katie
Coldwell and I offered a health class for this year. The song details Mary’s words imaging how she might have felt. I heard these same words and emotions
from the moms we accompanied.
Below are some of the words of the song and how I image they connect
with the woman who sits alone in her prison cell in Brazil.
Breath of Heaven
I have traveled many
moonless nights
Cold and weary with a
babe inside
And I wonder what I've
done
Although I do not know
the story of each woman, I do know that most of the women were arrested for
drug trafficking. All but one of
the women were already mothers.
These women have been through a lot of sleepless nights. They worry about their babies and their
children at home. Some may say
they should have known better than to take such a risk, however, I have learned
it is hard to know what options people really have when faced with
poverty. Do they traffic drugs, or
watch their children go hungry? It
is a choice no mother should have to make.
Breath of Heaven
I am waiting in a silent
prayer
I am frightened by the
load I bear
In a world as cold as
stone
Must I walk this path
alone?
Be with me now, be with
me now
During one of our
sessions we talked about the fears the women have. Their most imitate fears were if they went into labor would
it be a time when they could be taken to the prison hospital, or would they
give birth to their child alone?
If they needed a C-section would they get it in time? And after they gave birth how long
would it be until they were moved from the hospital back to a cell, an hour, a
day, they did not know. I can only
imagine the fear Mary must have felt giving birth in a stable. The uncertainty of finding a clean,
safe place must have been frightening.
No one really knows what
Mary worried about for Jesus’ life.
I have a feeling she knew one day she would need to let him go. These mothers in prison know too they
are going to have to let their child go sooner than they care too. They are allowed to keep their child in
prison with them for up to 6 months.
Every once in a while we witness a child leaving the prison usually in
the arms of what appears to be a grandmother. It is such a sad moment for the child and their mother.
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven, hold
me together
Be forever near me,
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven,
lighten my darkness
The emotions the women
have are really mixed. We
witnessed so much joy from our group as they shared names they had chosen for
their babies, or when we would put our hands to a belly and felt a baby
kick. These women love their
babies and find a sense of peace with them as they sit alone with just their
babies in their cells. On the
other hand the lives of both the women and the babies are unknown. The women worry about childbirth and
rightly so. Then there are the
questions of the future and what will become of them. They are just trying to hold things together as best they
can in their current situation.
For most of the women they said their faith was a source of comfort in times
of darkness.
We were privileged to accompany these moms for a little while. We worked to bring some education on woman’s health and childbirth and more importantly to listen to them and encourage them.
This song has become a
mother’s prayer for me. Around the
world tonight I know there are many marginalized women who pray for God’s
breath to comfort them and guide them on their journey. This Christmas I am praying for those moms who sit in
fear and in hope in a prison cell in Brazil.
Home for Christmas, Bug
Music. 2006)
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