I've been posting articles on the Third Way Newsletter by Blue Ocean Faith, Ann Arbor
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Mourning the Miscarriages
Two healers (cranial-sacral masseuses) worked on my body - releasing tension, talking me through my grief. They started their work one at my head and one at my feet. Then, Judy stopped at my uterus and rested there as Rachel held my feet. Judy put one hand above my uterus and one below, under my back. She asked me to focus on my uterus.
“What do you feel?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
Emptiness. Nothingness. I felt no cramping, no changes, no fullness. I lost touch with her (my body) somehow. We used to be so connected. She felt like an empty tomb now. Not even the remains were there. No place to visit and mourn my loved ones. There was death in this tomb and now there is nothing.
Emily asked if I’ve ritually grieved this second loss. For the first miscarriage, I lit a candle regularly for many nights. I have not ritually grieved. I have written a paper - is that a ritual? Today, for the first time in a long time, I took 12 minutes to meditate. As I breathed I could feel tension in my body and a tightness in my lungs. I remembered a time when the Spirit felt so alive in me. Now…”Nothing.”
The day the bleeding started, Emily prayed for the Lord to breathe life into my womb. I’m waiting now, as my womb feels death-filled and empty.
I told Ken and Emily that I am fascinated by the ways Jesus took on feminine roles - serving others, washing feet and caring for the children. Ken said the womb is the only tangible place where “I am in you and you are in me.” This echoes the words Jesus spoke, “In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in Me, and I in you” (John 14:20). That is fascinating to me, and the three of us women (Cassie, Emily and I) said we needed to think about this some more.
“I live…” he who died said to his disciples.
New life comes out of the womb. Jesus came out of his tomb. This new life, a living Jesus, retained his awareness of “I in you and you in me.”
The problem is that I feel like I am that empty tomb he left behind. But, instead of a risen child of God walking out into a garden, the life growing inside my womb exited as a bloody outpouring falling to the earth - twice.
A thought comforts me: The Ark of the Covenant. The mercy seat. I found the Ark in the story of the tomb. It is written that Mary Magdalene entered into the tomb and saw two angels seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” (John 20:12-13). She replied that they had taken her Lord. Then she saw Jesus, but thought he was the gardener. This imagery of the Ark comes to me - with the two angels seated, one at the head and the other at the foot of where his body had been.
The Ark is described in Exodus:
Now, I feel my own body participating in this story. Somehow my body holds the potential of being a holy vessel where God’s law may be written in my mind and in my heart with the two angels facing one another looking toward the cover, like the Ark of the Covenant. The words of Jeremiah are with me. “This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel after that time,’ declares the LORD. ‘I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.’” (Jeremiah 31:33). The two angels, Judy at my head and Rachel at my feet, said to me, “What do you feel?”
Perhaps my womb is not an empty tomb but a mercy seat. Perhaps I will soon see a gardener and come to know that life has conquered over death. Perhaps I will come to realize the meaning of the words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
“What do you feel?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
Emptiness. Nothingness. I felt no cramping, no changes, no fullness. I lost touch with her (my body) somehow. We used to be so connected. She felt like an empty tomb now. Not even the remains were there. No place to visit and mourn my loved ones. There was death in this tomb and now there is nothing.
Emily asked if I’ve ritually grieved this second loss. For the first miscarriage, I lit a candle regularly for many nights. I have not ritually grieved. I have written a paper - is that a ritual? Today, for the first time in a long time, I took 12 minutes to meditate. As I breathed I could feel tension in my body and a tightness in my lungs. I remembered a time when the Spirit felt so alive in me. Now…”Nothing.”
The day the bleeding started, Emily prayed for the Lord to breathe life into my womb. I’m waiting now, as my womb feels death-filled and empty.
I told Ken and Emily that I am fascinated by the ways Jesus took on feminine roles - serving others, washing feet and caring for the children. Ken said the womb is the only tangible place where “I am in you and you are in me.” This echoes the words Jesus spoke, “In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in Me, and I in you” (John 14:20). That is fascinating to me, and the three of us women (Cassie, Emily and I) said we needed to think about this some more.
“I live…” he who died said to his disciples.
New life comes out of the womb. Jesus came out of his tomb. This new life, a living Jesus, retained his awareness of “I in you and you in me.”
The problem is that I feel like I am that empty tomb he left behind. But, instead of a risen child of God walking out into a garden, the life growing inside my womb exited as a bloody outpouring falling to the earth - twice.
A thought comforts me: The Ark of the Covenant. The mercy seat. I found the Ark in the story of the tomb. It is written that Mary Magdalene entered into the tomb and saw two angels seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” (John 20:12-13). She replied that they had taken her Lord. Then she saw Jesus, but thought he was the gardener. This imagery of the Ark comes to me - with the two angels seated, one at the head and the other at the foot of where his body had been.
The Ark is described in Exodus:
“And make two cherubim out of hammered gold at the ends of the cover. Make one cherub on one end and the second on the other; make the cherubim of one piece with the cover, at the two ends. The cherubim are to have their wings spread upward, overshadowing the cover with them. The cherubim are to face each other, looking toward the cover. Place the cover on the top of the ark and put in the ark the tablets of the covenant law that I give you.” (Exodus 25:18-21)
Perhaps my womb is not an empty tomb but a mercy seat. Perhaps I will soon see a gardener and come to know that life has conquered over death. Perhaps I will come to realize the meaning of the words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
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