So I've been struggling and fighting myself for the past few days trying to get back "me". It feels much like it would if you were tossed overboard from a fishing vessel into stormy waters; the shock of the cold water, the floundering to keep your head above water while wave after wave comes slamming you down into the gray-black sea. You begin to breath and then your head is plunged back into the surf, salt fills your lungs and the cold grabs your breath. I'm walking the fine line between grieving, and self-pitying obsession.
Don't get me wrong, no matter how much "better" I can feel about the here and now this season grates on my heart; I am still a professional mother and teacher. Watching shoppers shop kids toys and clothes, writing up Christmas lists, preparing meals and watching the magic of the season ebb into our lives with out the wee body and eager eyes I planned on teaching it to and sharing it with shatters my defenses.
On top of it I love on children who's parents don't love them, consider their livelihood secondary to their own selfish needs, would sooner buy themselves the holiday magic than share it with their own flesh and blood.
When I started into the large cone part of my spiral decent, I began researching biblical scriptures on barrenness and prayers for conception. Somehow, by God's doing I'm sure, I ran across the story of Hannah from first Samuel.
Put the joy of those around me as the jealous jeering of the second wife and you have a very accurate depiction of my anguish. (I love this about God, for those of you who feel like the Bible is "out dated" or "not relative to the here and now" my experience has shown me when I search the word for a direct lesson and story on my plight I find an answer; from not feeling compelled like my fellow sisters to be quite and demure in the story of Deborah, to understanding how to love my in-laws in Ruth, to the desperation and suffering of Job. You're just not looking my friend, or, you just don't have the gall to actually read and apply what's said.) But I digress.
Hannah, me, surrendering my plight through the groaning of the Holy spirit, leaving the sanctuary with dry eyes and renewed appetite......
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