Thursday, April 14, 2011

pretty flowers planted neatly on top

[psalm 20 Nov 2009]

I don’t think 3 months of lectures on pregnancy
and birth was a good way to grieve the loss
of our little baby.

I said what was “true” numerous times, cried only
enough to stay alive and let all the anger and
confusion and shit get shoved down very deep
and then bought pretty flowers to plant
on top in a neat row

so everyone could feel better and move on
to follow a god who moves quickly so we
need to keep up.

But the ugly reality eventually surfaced
and covered over and it felt like all the
bleeding was coming again
out of my mouth came these words
I barely recognized
more real than “true”
more me than anyone
more good than beautiful.

And now my secret treasure of pain and lies
was dug up and I gave it away to
bigger more beautiful and kindest God,
who was there all along.

Now I feel wrecked and torn,
I feel empty, really empty,
I feel desert with barely any water,
I feel lost.

But I feel God’s acceptance,
even His welcome.

He calls the barren to loud shouts of joy.

He calls the barren to loud shouts of joy.

He is the expectant one.


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