Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

http://isaiahtwentyeight.blogspot.com/

I had to have a rant; sometimes it's good to have a verbal rant as you process the horrendousness of grief. To articulate the intensity of passion through words and sentence structure is productive even if most of the world doesn't understand or agree with what is written.

I grieve that we're living in a time that takes so much of God out of the picture. Science is god in our contemporary culture, even they who call themselves Christian put the sovereignty of science over the sovereignty of God. Thousands of years of history and now all of a sudden the ultrasound has become the tool by which we define life & death ethics. And yet the level of reasonable doubt that remains... I'm just stymied by the fact that we put so much stock into machines that can be so wrong.

And sadly, I doubt I'd care a single political jot if my babies were alive & well under foot, rather than dead and under the sod. It's only been the deaths of my girls and the obscenely inadequate medical care that have forced me to take stock of the insanity of where the medical & cultural ethos have turned in the world of pregnancy termination.

I'm at the summery portion of time when two years ago I had a precious little girl who was growing and smiling and doing so well. I can almost feel her in the warm summer night air. The days approach for what many in the world of baby demise refer to as her angel day; the day she died and went to heaven. My heart is weary; my health is fragile. And while it's been nearly two years, it feels as yesterday and I am still dropped to my knees for missing her.

It's not fair that she got to go and sit with the Master while I had to stay behind and attempt to make some sort of psychiatric peace with a world bent on evil and corruption; self absorption & self justification. I did not want to be a politician fighting for the rights of the preborn. I did not want to fight for the medical rights of the disabled: first, for their right to life and then, for their right to decent medical care.

No, I wanted to wash cloth baby diapers and wipe muddy patty caked fingers. I wanted to pick up toys and books and sing the same silly songs over and over & over & over. I wanted mama hugs and baby kisses and color books and bedtime wishes.

I got none of that, but instead was smacked right in the head with the fact that my first daughter didn't count as a legal person. And then I was smacked in the head again by the fact that my second daughter would have been eliminated by countless millions around the world who put more trust in termination than in God. It kills me that there are so many that wouldn't have even bothered to let her breathe, and yet she was so precious...

It's gruesome that in the midst of trying to comprehend such grief, I came face to face with the medical, legal, and cultural fact that neither of my girls mattered to this world beyond the realm of their parents. And yet they were of infinite measure to God who formed them in the secret parts... why He made them only to take them back is for Him to know, but certainly He had a purpose of great grandeur!

But in my quiet, broken corner of the world--the place where both my heart & flesh fail, I find myself missing them both so very much; so so very much. Truly they were both too beautiful for this place.