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Today

Monday, March 13, 2006

It is today that I can breathe again.
Today I know the tears that fall are healing.
Today I am okay with hurting,
and realize that healing hurts.
I realize feeling empty is normal or just who I am today.
I know I am full in so many ways, yet today I hunger for something.
It is right to cry, right to sit, right to just need quiet.
Today is the day I can cry when I fit into my clothes,
cry when I don't, and cry just because I cry.

It is today that I can breathe again.
I know that living is okay, and death is incomprehensible.
Empty is not only physical but mental as well.
Family is not related by blood alone
and healing can come through the prayers of a child.
Today is the day I start being alive again.
Today is the day I weep, yet can find time to smile,
and think about laughing again.

It is today that I can breathe again.
Healing through the prayers of my friends and family.
Hurting with those who mourn with me.
Watching as my beloved husband weeps.
Today I watch a strong man become weak.
Today I stand in the embrace of my husband,
healing together, hurting together, growing closer,
feeling each other's pain and knowing each other deeper.

It is today that I can breathe again.
Today I see God more clearly.
Today I feel God as he holds me on his lap and rocks me.
Today I am His child, and I know he feels my pain.
As I wipe away my tears I know they mingle with the tears of God.

It is today that I can breathe again.

  1. Blogger Al said:

    Beautiful Margie.

    [My co-workers are sure to wonder why I am sitting here wiping away tears also]

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Thank you Margie. That was beautiful. Breathe deep today.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Margie - you are a truly amazing lady. That was beautiful as are you. Thank you for allowing us to see into your heart and to hear and feel your pain. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

  1. Blogger Leslie said:

    Beautiful. Sad, yet hopeful. We have cried with you. ((hugs))

  1. Blogger Family Of Five said:

    I don't know why you are hurting..... but your post brought tears to my eyes and I hope whatever makes you feel so much pain soon passes and you can find a greater good.... I hope someday you can believe that everything happens for a reason! Let whatever saddens you bring your family closer together. Good luck!

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Margie, you continue to amaze. Thank you for sharing.

  1. Blogger Jodi said:

    ((((BIG HUGS MARGIE))))

  1. Blogger Jaci said:

    Love you Margie, thank you for sharing.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Your strength is inspiring, Margie.
    Hugs and prayers for all of you.
    Char

  1. Blogger Randell said:

    We miss you Margie, and are crying with you. Thank you for posting.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Margie
    I sit here at work and cry. Cry for a friend that is hurting. What you wrote is trully beautiful. Words can not be found right now other then to say you are in my thoughts and prayers. Wish I could give you a hug.
    Love you

  1. Blogger oncoffee said:

    beautiful... tender... powerful words... may our Father hold you in his arms

  1. Blogger Lori said:

    Margie,
    Beautiful. Even in all the pain, you find light. Loving you from afar. Wishing you much healing. Hugs.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Dear Margie,
    I am so sorry to hear of your loss. Please know you are all in our prayers.

    As I read your poem, I thought of something I read last year when I was doing a project about pregnancy loss, and felt I should share it with you. It was an article written by a woman named Serene Jones, and she described losing a pregnancy, in some ways, as "carrying death inside one's self...", the pain of living while, somehow, a piece of you dies. How, she asks, do we find something from the Bible that helps us understand this?

    She then writes:

    "What transpires in the Godhead when one of its members bleeds? Theologians like Moltmann and Luther have urged us to affirm that on the cross, God takes this death into the depths of Godself. The Trinity thus holds it. First person holds the Second, in its death, united with it by the power of the Spirit. But how can the living Godhead hold death within it? The tradition has told us that at this point in the story, our language breaks down, and we must simply ponder the cross and its mysteries.

    Perhaps the tradition is right, but perhaps its imaginative resources have been limited by the morphological imaginations of its mostly male theologians. Perhaps what we find in this space of silence is the image of the woman who, in the grips of a stillbirth, has death inside her and yet does not die. Consider the power of this as an image for the Trinity. When Christ is crucified, God’s own child dies. For the God who sent this child into the world bearing the hope of God’s eternal love, this death is a death of hope, the hope that the people who see this child will believe. It is a death of a possibility that has never been, the possibility of true human community.”"

    The first time I read that it took my breath way with its beauty, as I remembered that God does indeed share in all our pain, does understand. I was struck by the power that somehow a woman who has lost an unborn child is a beautiful image of God himself...

    I don't know if this will mean much to you, but I thought I would share this image. either way, I hope you will continue to feel God close through this time.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Fall into His Arms Margie...and allow Him to minister all that He has for you in these days. Matt.5:4.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    i love you.

  1. Anonymous Anonymous said:

    Thinking of you, and praying for you. Thanks for your beautiful authentic words. Love you!

    shar

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