We Are Portals



When Heaven came to meet her, she paused.
She paused long enough to encounter Heaven. Not on a mountaintop or in a blaze of light, but in an ordinary moment.
Her presence ushered Him in.

Her body became a welcome.
Trusting the Eternal One to lead her and guide her into all this strange newness,
She set fear aside to make room.

We are the women who make room for a new Way to be born.
We are the women who hear God’s whispers and the sweep of the Spirit.
We feel it in our bodies, our hearts, our souls,
Even when our hearts tremble at the possibility of His Presence.

We are the women often swept to the side, relegated to the margins …
But the margins, we find, aren’t so terrible.
It can be a wide open and wildly expansive place.
A threshold between mundane and magnificence.
We see the connection point between the cosmic Kingdom of God and this body with arthritis in its fingers, trauma in its belly and earth beneath these well-walked feet.

We are the ones on the outskirts who can hear the rumblings and feel the trembling when Heaven comes down …
Not at the center, but on the wide and wild edges.
Out in the fields with the shepherds.

It’s the place of angel choirs.
It’s the place of announcement and belief.
It’s the place of divine birth.

Here in my dishwasher kitchen
Here in my most unlikely places
My most rejected and shamed places
Heaven wants to be birthed right here.

We are the In-between places—carrying Divine and birthing Messiah.
We enflesh.
We make human.
We usher in.

We receive divine assignments, not-yet-seen-with-the-eyes ideas
And we carry them through the portals of blood and birth, pain and courage
Into being.

We carry messages of what is not yet
But in our bodies and
through our words
New worlds can be born.

The women of Christmas are gatherers.
The women of Christmas are believers.
The women of Christmas make manifest.

We are the holders
The containers
The facilitators
The manifesters.

We hold.
We receive.
We trust.
We believe.

When God created
He spoke,
and these words channeled a Universe into existence.

The second time,
God came through the portal of a woman’s body.

Like Mary, we are portals
Ushering in new eras of Redemption and Incarnation.

Our bodies, the fleshmakers
Our bodies, the Emmanuel carriers
Our bodies, the safe place for a Christ to be carried and born.

Again and again.
And again.
And even still.


Sometimes I walk into a store, hungry, looking for something to transport me to an eternal way, another world, a beautiful place. I yearn for an encounter in a beautiful napkin or a wooden bowl. I want to see Eternity in a shimmering votive or a print with a roaring lion. I look and I look and I leave still hungry, because what I am really looking for is a portal. Something that will transport and bring me into the Presence of the Eternal One. The Beautiful One. The Glorious King.

That is too much for a votive or a bowl or even a lion.

I forget that, like Mary, I am a portal. My body carries Resurrection Life. My spirit is at one with the One and the responsibility and the glory is close. It’s here. It’s in the kitchen. It’s in the minivan. It’s bent over before the laundry. The One I am looking for is always ready to meet with me. But I can find Him only when I pause and am present. When I am ready to open the door into Eternity and step across the threshold.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Meet us in our presence.
Meet us in our words and our stories.
Meet us in our pause.

We welcome You here.


As we start off our Advent series today, it’s our heart’s desire that you will find a Pause here with us … It is our prayer that, in this season, we will be present to each other and present to the One who came to be with us. Emmanuel.