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Labor
Sunday: severing pain and surgery--a thief in the night.
I choose: to scream and to pray, as I lay upon the altar.
but there is no ram in the thicket
no angel stops the knife
that stabs three times
and robs me of all future labors
Monday: salty tears flow freely and often for an empty, aching womb.
I choose: to live, to hurt, to cry:
why lead me by miracles
to the edge of the Red Sea
and part the waters
if only to let them crash upon me?
Tuesday: aching heart and open anger--an impossible maze.
I can't choose: an indifferent God; no God; a cruel God.
I have heard the God who Weeps.
I know of supernal comfort.
I have been embraced by divine love.
I cannot choose: human error.
He called to me.
He asked me open the door.
He provided a way. He healed each loss.
Now he lets the door
sever from its hinges;
lets them stitch it shut?
So call me Mara,
for today I choose to see
the bitter hand dealt to me.
While friends and family choose to give me sweets,
and flowing days of food,
flowers to brighten,
boxes to hit,
words to comfort,
pictures to color
and love
and love
and love.
Wednesday: fatigue and sorrow.
I choose: the forgetfulness of sleep. Forever.
But my husband seeks me, wakes me, cuddles me, cares for me again and again.
So I wake.
I choose to write.
I allow myself to yearn; to understand; to untangle.
I write, I ponder, I rewrite, I pull the thoughts apart; I untangle.
When I cannot see further,
I ask.
Delivery
The maze falls to pieces as a child
sobs into the Light
caught by hands
stretched out still
embraced by Love
nourished with
sacred Words of
Life.
It was not a loss.
It was a birth:
of grief
and pain
and sacrifice--
For this child
now at rest in His love.
As I am.
One comfort is to be found in a God whose power is in His magnanimity as well as His wisdom. These two traits mean that His divine energies are spent not in precluding chaos but in reordering it, not in preventing suffering but in alchemizing it, not in disallowing error but in transmuting it into goodness... God's power and promise is in His capacity to transmute our suffering--and our faithful response to painful predicaments--
into something beautiful.
Terryl and Fiona Givens, The Crucible of Doubt, p.78-79
This is so beautifully written Kate. You continue to amaze me. I am sorry and sad for all of your sorrow, pain and loss. We are praying for, you, Adam and you precious family. You are all a wonderful example to us. We love you, Susan & Steve Pitkin
ReplyDeleteOh, my Sweet, Sweet Kate!
ReplyDeleteWow.
Tears have been pouring down my face reading your stunning, heartfelt, unbearable feelings of this incredibly traumatic experience. Oh, bless your beautiful and precious heart. <3 I am just aching along with you for the journey that God has lovingly and painfully let you go through. You ARE in His divine, and gentle arms. Yes, He loves you beyond your comprehension. And your Sweet Baby chose to come to you and your beautiful Adam, specifically at this time, and specifically like this. This was your baby's journey just as much as it was yours. <3 You will continue to be shown all that our loving Heavenly Father wants you to receive from all the larger-than-life challenges Hrs given just to you.
You are a VERY special Daughter of His, indeed. We all know this. And I am touched beyond for the privilege and blessing of reconnecting with you again here in this existence. Thank you for being such a light in this world. You and Adam are an incredibly choice couple, and so is your beloved family, and I love you all so very much.
You're an unbelievably gifted teacher. Now look at all that you're getting to teach us about something so tender and so sacred. Bless you, Kate. Bless you always.
I love you so much. Hers to you and all your beauty and overflowing capacity to love. <3
Here's to your incredibly loving, wise, supportive and giving husband. <3
And here's to your beautiful, precious child who is forever with you. <3
Kara Lyn Roundy!