A wonderful friend of my has written this blog, but she wishes to stay anonymous.
(Warning this blog discuses miscarrage and child loss)
Ever heard a preach on the Father heart of God? Ever heard a father preaching about how horific it would be for him to loss his son. Probably. Ever heard a mother preach about child loss? I suspect if you have it will have been less often.
I find it hard to spend any length of time in worship at present without experiencing substantial amounts of pain. God is gracious and let’s me run away and run back and slowly I grieve.
God chooses to reveal himself in scripture in both terms of father and mother imagery. So here is a mothers perspective on the cross.
I had a child wrenched from my womb, I watched as I lost all ability to nurture, care and grow this precious being, watched it pour out of me. I lost the possibility of holding that child to my breast, to nurse it with its ear next to my heartbeat to stare into its face and see my own emotions mirrored back. I lost the oppertunity to suuround them with love, joy and goodness.
I had nothing to hold or bury so vast was the seperation raught between us so I buried a box of memories in a garden I will never walk with my child in. But I have hope. God gave me a picture of the future and when I get to glory there’s a child waiting ready to run towards me arms wide open shouting ‘mummy’. Because God’s love can reach right down into the depths of this broken world. Right down to a collection of cells that could never have lived, that had the ‘wrong’ combination of chromosomes that lacked what it took to be a viable human. Yet still God breathes life.
Both my children have taught me so much about the love of God for us. What my child Eden has given me a glimmer of is the cataclismic pain God bears when his children are taken and the eager anticipation with which God longs to be reconciled.