Hearing Voices

Whew... check out this poem - Hearing Voices. I like it.

Keeping Busy

I've been trying to keep myself busy. This blog was partially born from that attempt at busyness. See, hubby and I have been trying to get pregnant for well over a year now, after the miscarriage of a couple-of-months-before-plan, but very very welcome pregnancy.

It's exceedingly easy to obsess over pregnancy, the lack thereof, the attempts to get pregnant, etc. I try hard not to obsess, but it's difficult when it's my own body that's the key. Know what I mean? Pregnancy is heralded by many, many changes in my body, it's something that comes into being in my body... so I suspect that not obsessing is far more difficult for women than for men. Feel free to disagree, as long as you can do it rationally!

So, another aspect of 'keeping busy' has been an attempt to keep myself (and others) amused by looking at the funny side of trying to conceive. So far, the blog is looking rather pathetic. I'm disappointed at my inability to express amusing thoughts well in the fictional diary format that I chose. Oh well, I'll keep trying. If you want to have a look (keeping in mind my disclaimer of 'pathetic'), check out Help, I can't find the bun!

Questions

I appreciate having the (Australian) Lutheran church as my first spiritual home for a few reasons, but right now this is the main one - I learnt to accept that some questions just don't have definitive answers. I remember the church I went to being very upfront in saying - we don't know how God does this, we just believe he does.

Wow, has that done me an incredible amount of good! I'm the questioning type, I need explanations for a lot of things (like why God made particular rules for us). But I can accept that some questions just don't have answers that I can comprehend here and now. Maybe after I die, I'll find out and understand all those answers. I look forward to the possibility!

Anyway, I was reminded of this concept at church today. A fellow member talked about a scary hospital visit during the week, and her anger at God. How dare he let that happen to her? And he told her something that he's told me often... that he's there, and he's in control, whether I understand or not. It reminded me of a time in my life when I leaned on that knowledge with all of my weight... and of a piece of writing I did in the middle of the night a couple of months ago. It's full of questions, and only one answer.

Warning - it's about a miscarriage, and may bring up pain and memories for anyone who's experienced a similar loss.

Will I see my unborn child in heaven?

Does a tiny form which never grew eyes contemplate the glory of our Father?

Did a soul ever flicker into awareness and feel the love and devotion poured over it so briefly?

I wonder. Mostly I try not to, because to answer these questions seems trite and pointless. Who really knows?

God knows. But these seem to be secrets which he holds close to his heart. He knows exactly what happens in the womb. He knits together not only the body, but the soul, of each and every child.

What I yearn to know is - was it a potential life or a living, aware child that I lost that day? Will I see my baby in heaven??

At the end of the day, I know only this -

God knows the answers to my questions, and there are no tears in heaven. These two things, and God's very presence, are my comfort when I have no answers.

Drawing Crosses

For the second time this week, I find myself amidst people drawing crosses on inanimate objects. Strangely, the expressed purpose each time seemed quite different from my perspective. Is God trying to show me a deep difference, or an underlying similarity?