“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me.
Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real
rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced
rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep
company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11:28-30
MSG)
The day of
the ultrasound was the day it all started to unravel.
Gradually I was able to grasp at the bare threads of what I had called my faith
and cover the nakedness of my reality for a few more months.
And then the
preacher said there was a plan. That God had a plan for every one of our days
before we ever drew a breath. Even for this? For me? For her?!
That was the
end of religion as a philosophy, as a way of life for me.
Unravelled.
I had
experienced God's presence in my life at critical moments. Junctures of crisis.
At my dad's deathbed. Through smokey, sweaty, drunken attempts to fill the
aching void. At my first pregnancy's porcelain funeral. In front of a lonely
post-partum sink full of dishes.
But, then,
here was this precious, fragile, fiery bundle of life with endless unknowns who
had shattered the boundaries of what I thought I had mastered as a mother.
Unravelled.
A placation,
a momentary salve from a Higher Power wasn't going to cut it this time. If He
was out there and could be found, I had to have real answers, even if they were
not what I wanted to hear.
At my
invitation, He made Himself known. Not how I expected. Not in my time. Beyond
my dreams.
Some
questions have been answered
but not
others.
I am still unravelled
but I am at
peace.
I know I am
not alone. And more importantly, she isn't. I don't know yet whether He planned
this for her. I am less certain whether it would be good or bad if He did.
I've learned
how to hand the pain to Him, the struggle. How not to have to be in control.
How to rest in the uncertainty of life - both mine and hers. How to sign the
spiritual surgical consent form and that it's my choice. That there is no wrong
question to ask and that there may never be answers.
I've completely unravelled.
And that's ok.
