"Impossible to conceive..."

it's funny how
we look at things
through the lens of our
own
mottled pain,
and then,
arrested by the
sharp intake of
breath,
we look away
again
and again
without seeing what
is really there.

I had this happen one winter night
some time ago when the wind howled through my
empty womb and the nursery held a small cradle
but the cradle held no one...

my eyes landed on
this fragment of a statement
about two-thirds of the
way down the
page...

"and it is
impossible to conceive..."

my heart sank
low
"turn away,
turn away,
please...
turn away," it begged

"impossible to conceive"
like
"failure to carry"
tiny phrases that
begin to spin, and swirl,
and tug at my
heart's
tethering,

it's fragile
anchor in
the sea of hope..

"do not let those words
suck you into the
quicksand of
regret and
despair..."
my heart cries out,
"just turn
away...turn the page...do not
read anymore

there are more encouraging
pages,
paragraphs,
long sentences you can
take apart and parse out in
syllables of metaphor and meaning...

there are other words you can
wrap around yourself,
snuggle up with
in a softly-worn patchwork quilt of
dictionary and thesaurus...etymology and
synonym.
find your
peace in
their beauty and meaning...but
not this..

do not linger with this one
it will make you sick with sorrow and
regret...turn away...

but tonight I am tired of
turning away....

"bring it on.."
i think with a David-like
ardor.

bring me your Goliath-sized
helping of words that wound and pierce
and pull me under where I will
gasp for love, and another chance to start
again

So I steel myself with five smooth stones of
innocent resolve:

"be it unto me according to Thy will..."

Okay, not five...eight...
eight small word-stones...
but
I am not a shepherd boy who had faced
bears and lions
I need three more stones
to get the job done.
these eight will do...
they worked for
her.

Three more stones to cast at the Goliath of
regret and sorrow...

"I have never said no..." I thought,

"...she was so small,
and was gone before I could see
the flutter of her eyelids
or feel the suckle of her tiny
lips..."

But, I have always given You my body,
my mind, my heart...
I have always said "yes" to You...
to love and motherhood and
most of all,
to being your handmaid.

And then I steel myself with this truth, my Truth:
 
"be it unto me according to Thy will"

..and so I find the courage to
read the whole sentence...again:

"He fills all space, and it is impossible to conceive
of such omnipresence and individuality except as infinite
Spirit or Mind.  Hence all is Spirit and spiritual."

Oh my goodness.  It was there all the time. 

He fills me.  I am pregnant, round, full,
expectant, conceived and conceiving, content, satisfied,
willing...so willing...always so willing...

yes,
it is impossible to conceive of anything but the
fullness of His love for me, and
mine,
and
all.

and I am able to conceive
that...

His love
fills me

I am pregnant with
peace....


* referenced statements are from the Bible (Luke 1:38) and  Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy, page 331.