We will ask God
She said
We will seek His face on your behalf
That He would extend his generous grace upon the flesh of you
That He would make all the skin and bones that would propel you
Yet maintaining your humble spirit
Healed and whole

We will ask God
She said

We will appeal to His heart
to make a blessing of your infirmity
to touch you there ever so softly
to heal the feeling of your anxiety
to tuck comfort in your ability to choose trust
Swallow your mustard seed Beloved,
You are always well

We will ask God
She said
To remind me...

As if all that we bring and all that we bear
Did not come from His yes and His Amen
But it is a blessing too when He does not agree
Because we know He who ordains our expected end
will carry us through it
And it is perfect
Clearer than our eye can see
Louder than our ear can here
More magnificent than our heart can contain

We will ask God
She said
He already heard
 

This poem was inspired by a darling, faith-full believer, who upon my (unconfirmed) news of having fibroids, responded with: We will ask God. And for whatever reason, her resolute answer inspired me to poetry. 

WARNING! Some real adult/womanhood content follows.
Anyone who reads me knows, I like to find things interesting. And I find it rather interesting that (as women) our issues flow from and through our bodies by blood shed. That our dark wombs can and will create substance of our issues and purge them out from us as blood. Interesting, that from our private spaces, unknown and unseen; from our vaginas, our infirmaties or impurities flow free.

Having experienced the heaviest and most uncomfortable menstruation of my entire life, I have never been more clear on the value, purpose, impact, and meaning of my vagina! Yup, that's what I said. To think that my issues--flow from my body--through my coochie! This one thought really encourgaes me to further scrutinize who and their issues I will allow to enter into my sacred, self correcting body. 

WORTH MENTIONING! This past month has given me an entirely new perspective on an unnamed woman in the Bible, referenced always as "the woman with the issue of blood".  While I did not suffer the stigma of being "ceremonially unclean", I certainly felt a hint of what the weight of her socail isolation could have felt like. And while I have not suffered this condition for years, my two to three weeks was more than I wanted to bear. 

It is not a good feeling to have zero control over what and how your body changes/reacts through natural causes. And it could be a stuggle adapting to a new normal. But I will not let it be. I took my time to decide that surgery is the best option for me. I will take my time to recover. And I will continue to appreciate that as I go through ups and downs, along the way, I can still be inspired to write. 

erm... It is Well

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