pray peace by Cheryl Lawrie
peace does not always come in the shape of a baby
in a season that abounds with fertile miracles
pray peace for those for whom every breathless, wondrous mention
of babies born
will bring only unspeakable pain.
pray peace for the Elizabeths who will not get pregnant,
for whom no miracle will occur, at any age
who know themselves only as cursed.
pray peace for the Marys who are pregnant and who do not want to be
for whom every movement inside is a reminder of fear and despair.
pray peace for the Marys whose partners say ‘no’.
pray peace for the Rachels whose babies have died
and whose cries will go unheard
in the clamour of christmas bells and carols.
and pray peace for the unnamed women
whose stories are not spoken out loud in the bible
the women who ended pregnancies
the women who miscarried
the women who will never have the chance to have children
pray peace for the women for whom this Christmas story is only a reminder
of the inadequacy
and failure,
the grief
and the guilt,
they feel every month.
peace does not always come in the shape of a baby.
peace does not always come in the shape of a baby.
Showing posts with label infant loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infant loss. Show all posts
Monday, December 24, 2012
Monday, December 14, 2009
Some Words on Infant Loss
I once again used the 1 Corinthians 13 Text. This was for a dear friend's baby.
In this evening’s reflection, I’m going to pass on a couple ideas for you to ponder tonight. Please be patient with my tears.
God is very different for all of us. What I mean when I say "God" is not the same as what you mean. People who attend the same church or grow up in the same family will have very different views of who God is. The same goes for the meaning and purpose of life and death. Some of this is because of the particular events that shape our perspective of the world. Some of this is because of the language and words we learn. The list of reasons why we all think differently about God, life and death is endless… and, surprisingly enough, religion is only a small part of it.
This week a tragic event occurred that has shaped everyone here in this room and a few outside it too. A baby has died before being able to experience life outside the womb. No matter how you are related to Baby G, his death has impacted you and how you see life and death. However, it has impacted no one as much as it has his parents and brother. There will be countless days of tears as they face a future on earth without Baby G beside them. But there will also be moments of gratitude and appreciation for the time Baby G did spend with them, the sonogram pictures, listening to his heartbeat, the joy of adding to their family, and the love they felt for him.
Love is a gift that we sometimes forget to cherish and appreciate as much as we should. As a society, we gather at weddings and funerals and maybe an occasional holiday or two as a sign of caring, of love. However, we forget in the daily activities of life to show that same appreciation. The time with Baby G was very brief. But it was filled with love. Each moment he was here his mother, father and brother made sure that Baby G felt loved and cherished, that he knew his presence in their family was anticipated with great joy and hope.
When Baby G died, he was cocooned in his mother’s womb, their heartbeats only inches from each other. He did not die alone and isolated, without love or comfort. Just the opposite, he was as close to another human being as any of us will ever get.
I suggest to you that one way this tragedy may shape you is an understanding of God as love, of the meaning of life and death being love. Love never ends. Love is what keeps us going, day after day, tragedy after tragedy. Love is what will get you through this. Love never ends.
The absence of Baby G in our lives will be horribly hard. But if we see God as love, if the meaning of it all is love, then perhaps part of that love is also letting go. Most of the people we will have to let go of in our lives will not be so sudden and so tragic, but letting go is part of being a parent, it’s part of being a child. There is not a part of life that does not entail letting go of someone you love. The permanence of Baby G’s absence may make it feel different somehow. However, the universe is what, over 13 billion years old? The years we will be separated from him will be brief in comparison. So, this isn’t goodbye forever, this is until we meet again. Because Love NEVER ends. NEVER.
So, while we may never agree on who God is or what the meaning and purpose of life and death are, perhaps we can all agree that part of the answer is love.
In this evening’s reflection, I’m going to pass on a couple ideas for you to ponder tonight. Please be patient with my tears.
God is very different for all of us. What I mean when I say "God" is not the same as what you mean. People who attend the same church or grow up in the same family will have very different views of who God is. The same goes for the meaning and purpose of life and death. Some of this is because of the particular events that shape our perspective of the world. Some of this is because of the language and words we learn. The list of reasons why we all think differently about God, life and death is endless… and, surprisingly enough, religion is only a small part of it.
This week a tragic event occurred that has shaped everyone here in this room and a few outside it too. A baby has died before being able to experience life outside the womb. No matter how you are related to Baby G, his death has impacted you and how you see life and death. However, it has impacted no one as much as it has his parents and brother. There will be countless days of tears as they face a future on earth without Baby G beside them. But there will also be moments of gratitude and appreciation for the time Baby G did spend with them, the sonogram pictures, listening to his heartbeat, the joy of adding to their family, and the love they felt for him.
Love is a gift that we sometimes forget to cherish and appreciate as much as we should. As a society, we gather at weddings and funerals and maybe an occasional holiday or two as a sign of caring, of love. However, we forget in the daily activities of life to show that same appreciation. The time with Baby G was very brief. But it was filled with love. Each moment he was here his mother, father and brother made sure that Baby G felt loved and cherished, that he knew his presence in their family was anticipated with great joy and hope.
When Baby G died, he was cocooned in his mother’s womb, their heartbeats only inches from each other. He did not die alone and isolated, without love or comfort. Just the opposite, he was as close to another human being as any of us will ever get.
I suggest to you that one way this tragedy may shape you is an understanding of God as love, of the meaning of life and death being love. Love never ends. Love is what keeps us going, day after day, tragedy after tragedy. Love is what will get you through this. Love never ends.
The absence of Baby G in our lives will be horribly hard. But if we see God as love, if the meaning of it all is love, then perhaps part of that love is also letting go. Most of the people we will have to let go of in our lives will not be so sudden and so tragic, but letting go is part of being a parent, it’s part of being a child. There is not a part of life that does not entail letting go of someone you love. The permanence of Baby G’s absence may make it feel different somehow. However, the universe is what, over 13 billion years old? The years we will be separated from him will be brief in comparison. So, this isn’t goodbye forever, this is until we meet again. Because Love NEVER ends. NEVER.
So, while we may never agree on who God is or what the meaning and purpose of life and death are, perhaps we can all agree that part of the answer is love.