Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Waiting for the dawn

I'm a little off lately. Emotionally, that is.

A dear friend of mine, here in our little town, is experiencing a miscarriage, and my heart is aching for her.

An internet friend is going through the same storm. Many other women have also had such losses recently.

The experiences are recalling for me the many aches of my own five miscarriages, and although I firmly and truly believe that Christ was with me through them all ~~ that He led me, sculpted me, formed me and changed me, that He healed me in ineffable ways through the short lives and deaths of my children ~~ I also firmly and truly believe this:

We must grieve.

And I know that my friends have a long and difficult path of grieving ahead of them. I want to be able to do it for them. I want to take it away, so they don't have to wade through it. I want to carry their crosses, save them from their pain.

But, no. It doesn't work that way, does it? I cannot change or short-circuit anyone else's sculpting and forming. I cannot decide the pace or the face of their healing. It's not in my capacity, and it's certainly not my place. I am not at the center of these storms. I can merely stand by and offer help -- help to pick up a few pieces, pat a few things back into place, offer food in the time of rebuilding.

It seems feeble and weak, doesn't seem like enough. And yet, it's all I can do. It is what I am able to do. And, it gives me something to do.

Someone Else has the job of truly taking on their burdens.
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.

~~ Matthew 11:28-30
Christ is the only one who will bring them to true peace, acceptance and understanding. Into His arms they will fall and cry, as many times as they need to, until one day when they will see His face in the face of their loss.

And in the meantime, I'll be there ... with prayers, a plate of cookies, and tears of my own.

8 comments:

Liz said...

Karen, Although I only lost one baby, not five, I know exactly what you mean. Reading Kimberly Hahn's Life Giving Love brought it all back and had me in tears all over again. Prayers for you and your friends!

Elizabeth said...

Karen,
Beautifully put. I feel the same way. It's been a really dark month, both locally and online. I'm waiting with you for the dawn...

Katherine in TX said...

Karen, this is such a beautiful and touching post. Your friend is in my prayers (and so are you).
God Bless.

Alice said...

Praying and waiting with you, Karen. This has been such a sad time.

Margaret in Minnesota said...

Oh Karen, I'm so sorry. My miscarriage was one of the hardest things I've gone through, yet I will never forget the kindness of my neighbors and friends.

You are all in my prayers.

Jill said...

Karen-
First of all, sorry in advance for my 'blog within a blog.' I just started reading your blog and love it. I am a mother of three plus two with God. I find much inspiration in your writings...
Anyway,
What a beautiful post. In addition to your prayers and support you also offer the gift of true empathy. I didn't realize the full extent of this until I suffered two miscarriages. I so appreciated all of the support I received, but the friends who had gone through it somehow gave me extra peace. They could just sit with me on the phone in silence and I just knew that they understood. I feel I now have this gift to share with others.

And how wonderful it is to have Catholic friends who validate the lives and subsequent deaths of our little souls instead of calling it "tissue that was never meant to be a healthy baby." We know we will see our other children with God someday.

A dear friend of mine recently miscarried her twins at 11 weeks. The day before my friend miscarried, her grandmother had a very vivid dream. She was walking through a beautiful field of flowers and felt very at peace. There were several children laughing and dancing in this peaceful meadow. She walked over to the children. A little boy reached out to her, held onto her hand and said, "Go and tell them that the Lord is good."

Karen E. said...

Thank you to all of you, for your kindness, understanding and prayers.

And Jill, welcome, and thank you for taking the time to comment. I love all comments, esp. the long ones. :-)
I'm so sorry for your friend's loss of her twins. And, yes, we will be blessed to be in their presence again one day. I can't wait to see all of mine, and I ask them daily to pray for their mommy, still slogging her way through down here on earth.

And that dream -- how beautiful!
Thanks for that!

Donna said...

Karen, I am so grateful for your friendship and for all the prayers that you have offered for me. You have truly helped lift the pain.

Blessings to you!