Tuesday, September 30, 2014

As the Sky Comes To Be Dark and Low Overhead

We peered at the horizon as the storm clouds loomed,
We wondered, the mystery of leaden encroaching skies,
Though clouds have settled overhead thunder hasn’t yet boomed,
The clap of the heavens will reverberate when our baby dies.
When the mystery is exchanged for numbing grief,
Having meet our little darling, finally, having earned their peace,
There’ll be no sense for hardship or joy or relief,
Our loss will hold us apart from an eternity of release.
Oh what the day will bring – a calamitous notion; an incongruous reality; the first and only thunder crack peeling from the heavens; a last gasp and the slowing to a stop of the heartbeat. We fully expect to reacquaint with our darling little one in heaven one day.
Our loss will hold us apart from an eternity of release.
Our loss will teach us; we have yet to even perceive that contemplation. We cannot yet know it. We ponder what it may be like; the moment, the seconds, the labour, the exhausted relief of having delivered the baby and the momentary ecstasy to meet him or her, which will too soon be replaced with earth-shattering and soul-piercing sorrow to be there in the experience of their passing.
I apologise if this is too dark, but it does help me to wonder into the future. I find grief not to be feared, but cherished, for God is there in the absence of hope and in the vacuum of life.
As our perceptions are shaped by our realities we can expect to experience something very solemn and holy.
Sorrowful seasons are bruising but bettering. As we step forth in the day of annihilation – where soul and spirit are split asunder, with pain – we are greeted by a companion who will never let go; who will show us for who we are as he will show us who he is.
The signs medically, they are polarising. The aggressive nature of the amniotic fluid build up, and the status of other indicators, leaves us expecting birth anytime.
As always we look to God in the heavens, and with us, and in us, here on Earth.
Through it all, our eyes are on him. And we are still being blessed to minister in those special lives God has given us to enter into at this time. God is good. No matter how dark the clouds are overhead, God is good.
© 2014 S. J. Wickham.

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