He Must Increase… I Must Decrease…
Mary, gentle Mary, as the miracle grew within you,
The Word became flesh – a part of our clay.
A helpless little person, taking your strength,
His body forming from your very flesh.
Did you feel less a person in your own right
As he quietly expanded into your future – your NOW?
Days and nights blending into HIS needs, HIS life.
Fast forward the story, little Maid of God, You have
Become an older lady now, and He changes water into wine,
Dances the songs of other dreams in the sure strength of manhood.
Life is happy music and no one really notices that now
He walks with others, and does not cling to home.
You are smaller now, for he stands tall against the wind
And you sing a hymn of joy, tinged with doleful sadness.
It is the way of mothers, to be left behind
As their children make new paths in the sands of life.
Patterns form and human creators can not dream that new song.
He does not look back, and you carry the water jars, – just
Like you did when he clung to your skirts and skipped close
By your side; but your arms are empty now, and you slowly shrink
At the thought of someday being all alone with the dregs of life.
Then comes the awful Cross, the dreadful agony, the final death,
And you are called upon to be the strength of those
Left behind on the bloody path of Calvary. You MUST
Rise to grace and carry those who still can not walk alone.
Yet it is HIS strength that brings you through those awful days
Of torment, and near despair. He is still increasing, in the
Silence of the tomb, as your heart breaks and your spirit falters.
What’s the end of the story? – Shall you ever dance again?
Or will sorrow plague your days, and haunt your nights
With ghosts of horror, old nightmares of loss and pain?
How small can you grow before you are no more?
Back to a tiny grain of life dependent on your mother’s love? –
Or shriveled to the dust from which you were first created?
How, my God, will you form new life from nothingness?
Foolish child of doubts, look around you. – Nature shouts of
Creation’s powers to make the world breathe again. – Each
Season sports the colors of its time, and mankind smiles when
God’s unique portrait exposes itself to life’s touch of wonder.
Snowflakes and roses, autumn leaves and lilacs, violets and
Daisies! Bluebirds and robins, and all the things of wonder
That eagerly show themselves to the little ones of God.
“…He must increase….I must decrease….”
By Sr. Phyllis Carpenter, SAC
Photo by M. Studzińska
