On Miscarriage…

You bend your ear

To hear the song of the broken hearted

The tears and doubt

Fists pounding the ground

Hold me tighter

While I thrash around

And in the moment

It almost feels like you love me more

Jesus

You are stable

When I can’t seem to hold on

You steady my weak feet

When the sadness befriends

And fear keeps me company

Come love me there

Lift up my eyes

To face all your goodness

Come love me there

Not just a skipped beat

But a heart stopped

And while I lay there

Without hope, life left hollow

You took my place

Lived my sorrow

What can I do

What can I say

To say enough or give enough praise

What would it look like

What would I sound like

Oh beautiful Christ I let go

How can it be

That I should gain

From questioning you?

Not trusting you?

When love feels like a sting in my heart

I cry out

I scream and shout

Throw words like knives that pierce your side

All while you burn for me

All while you love me so fiercely

 

Sometimes I sense the wind against my flesh, but I cannot feel it.

Sometimes the only thing that penetrates my body making its way into my soul is a profound sadness.

An ache.

An emptiness.

It threatens to seize me with its friendship. Keeping me company when joy cannot find its way in.

When love hurts too much to enjoy. 

I might know truth.

But I don’t want it.

The sound of trite religious affirmations tighten around my chest and I can’t breathe.

“God has a plan.”

“It will happen.”

“Don’t be discouraged.”

Don’t you dare rob me of my mourning! My grief makes me FEEL!

I hate the weight of sadness, but I cannot rush past it for death was meant to be grieved.

When will it leave me alone? But don’t leave me here!

When will the crushing weight lift? But still tuck me in at night.

Stay close so I can feel the life that has left me.

Grief. My solace. My illusion of a heartbeat. 

Healing, I fear, should detach me from my child.

You see my heart is forever transformed. My heart is a mother.

My ache is for the one my body couldn’t hold. Couldn’t nurture. Couldn’t know.

God, I’m so sad.

A shell of myself. I ache. I yearn.

Unexpected, like a thief in the night. Death came and snatched out life.

I feel vulnerable. Violated. Emptied. 

And also hardened. Angry. Impenetrable. 

A profound sadness.

But unlike any other sadness I don’t wish it away because it tells me that it is my only connection to what I lost. And my mother heart cannot bear to lose that connection to my child.

Miscarriage.

A mystery of sadness.

But the heavy weight is a lie of comfort.

For You, Jesus, take my burdens, bore my sin and sadness so that I may live.

That I may feel life IN you. And the life that was lost in me.

El Roi. The God who sees me.

Flood my mother heart with healing.

 

What if I let you come love me there?