Monthly Archives: March 2013

fractured

GGma 3 - Version 2

Almost four weeks ago I broke my hand.  It has been hard to write to say the least and I wish I could say I am using the time to relax, because that was my intention.  But as always it has been busy.  My plan, I hope, is to use the last week and a half to do just that.

One thing that struck me, and is why I am telling you this, was when I left the urgent care after learning my hand was indeed broken, quite well the doctor remarked, and with the threat of surgery looming over my head, I walked out the doors and lost it.  I broke down.  I was left with overwhelming emptiness, shame, and anger.

A couple days later, I thought about it and realized that was the same feeling I felt when I left the abortion clinic.  In an instant I was brought back to that place.  I saw myself walk out those doors, and down the steps.  In that moment I felt nothing and everything.

I grieved deeply.

As I sit here and type one handed (of which I am getting really good at and thank-you spell check!), I am looking forward to the days of one-handed typing to be behind me.  But like my abortion, lessons that are harder learned will be with me forever and maybe that is a good thing for it was George Santayana who said, “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

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surrender part four

click here to see part one
click here to see part two
click here to see part three

don’t weep for me

photo

It is true, I don’t have children.  I sometimes wonder what it would have been like.  I remember when I bought my house (it’s next to a school).  I thought maybe one day I would have a child and I could stay home and walk them to school and pick them up.  I could have warm cookies waiting from time to time.  See their smiles light up their face as they wipe off their milk mustache.

I know its not all sunshine and cookies, but I imagine there must be some reward or why would so many of you decide to have children and more than one.  🙂

There is a sorrow inside me that won’t go away.  It’s more of a dull ache that remains.  Like when the cold weather brings on the tenderness of old joints, I too have seasons of my life where this pain is more prominent than usual.

Don’t weep for me.  There is joy in my future when I will be reunited with my Rebekah Hope, of that I am sure.