Birth Recount One

Verse one

River flows over me

Calm, warm and strong

I rest in my lover’s arms

Strong and still

Strong and still

I look up from the river, across the grass and into the trees

The lion is waiting, calmly watching from afar

Its giant paws tread softly on the grass

Verse two

I kneel in the river. I look up. The lion is distant.

The lion and eye make I contact. My soul quakes.

I crawl towards him.

Right arm forward, left knee forward.

He mirrors me.

Left paw forward, right paw forward.

I stop. He stops.

With trepidation I move again.

Left arm forward, right knee.

Right paw, left paw.

He mirrors me.

The distance is closing.

Desperately I wish to turn away, but am captivated be his gaze.

I am drawn forward. My body crawls on without my permission. God be with me.

I imagine the talons in those paws, the teeth in that mouth. I shudder.

But when I look all I see is deep golden eyes.

The distance is closing.

And still the lion mirrors my every move forward.

Ten metres. The grass is soft beneath us.

Seven metres. I am terrified. God, give me courage.

Four metres. Stop, I plead, but my body ignores me. God give me strength.

Two metres. Stop, I beg. My head drops and I crumble in tears. But my body crawls on, inch by inch. I am helpless. I am lost. God…

I close my eyes and go to another place.

God meets me.

In his beautiful hands he carries a burning rod of fierce courage.

One metre

‘God I need courage’ I ignore what he carries. I can not handle it.

Without speaking he reminds me that courage and fierceness are one the same. One the same.

Half a metre. I am petrified.

‘God I need courage!’ I scream at him.

Quarter metre.

Nose to nose

I close my eyes in silent fear. God’s hand moves towards me, my fear is only matched by desperation. I plead for what he holds. He reaches into my soul.

I wince and curl in pain as I feel the light of courage, first in the depths of my body then through my every single cell. Fierce strength pulsates through my veins.

I gulp and eyes wide open. I stare eye ball to eye ball at the lion and I realise… that.. the lion is me.

The lion is me.

The strength, the power, the energy, the intensity of which I was so afraid, is me. It is my body, it is my soul, it is my emotion.

The lion walks onward. Giant paws on soft grass. Fierce courage pulsating through it’s veins. The lion is not afraid. Each contraction brings only new depth to it’s growl.

Verse Three

I come back to my lover.

I am human again, but somehow altered

I look in his eyes and laugh at the pain to show him I’m OK.

His love and God’s love is all around me, is all I know.

I cannot speak but with my eyes I smile, “You have got to be kidding me!” Who on earth came up with this plan?!

I say it to him and I say it to my saviour as if they are one the same.

As if they are one.

And then with the final push, my wrecked, wrinkled and empty body gushes open

And my daughter is born

My daughter is born

Time stands still

For 45 minutes I am overcome with the bliss of feeling her human spirit.

beyond words...

Labyrinth

Walked the labyrinth at St Aidan's in Claremont today. A beautiful time of reflection moving through the three stages of Purgation, Illumination and Union. I found it a useful meditation tool particularly as one who is easily distracted. Following the path kept my body occupied which made it easier to clear distractions from my mind. I find it refreshing, experiencing new ways of reflection and contemplation.

baby

baby still snuggled up inside me. 3 hours and 2 minutes left of it's due date...

so why am i planning on a home water birth again when there's a perfectly good hospital just down the road?

everytime i get asked that question i seem to give a different answer.

let me make a list to unclutter my brain.


- i think the body, mind and spirit are delicately interconnected and the body can't function well unless the mind and spirit are positive and healthy.
- there is less chance of infection for me or baby
- the water will help me move into different position more easily, which will allow me to listen to my body and do what it tells me more easily. the physical position of the mother is supposed to be really influential in how easily the baby can move through the canal.
- i like things being as natural as possibly and want to avoid the cascade of intervention which is so common in hospitals. (eg. lots of foetal monitoring leads to mother laying on her back for ages which leads to 'failure to progress' which leads to her being induced which leads to an epidural which leads to a c-section)
- i also believe that health is not just the absence of something going wrong, health is more about optimum functioning. hospitals seemed to be all about stopping things going wrong rather than actually promotion health.
- the water will help my skin and muscles soften and less likely to tear.
- the temptation of drugs will not be there. why is that important? i'm not exactly sure... i think i fear that drugs will stop me from fully experiencing this incredible event.
- this baby has somehow made me more aware of my connection with God than ever. And my awareness of my connection with God is possibly the most dearest thing to me. I imagine it would be much harder for me to feel connected to God birthing in a hospital than it will be for me to get lost in His arms at home.
- giving birth in a strange room in front of a bunch of strangers sounds really bizarre to me. to me it's really strange that the 'normal' place to birth would be in hospital.

hmmm... that helped me unclutter a bit. and can i add that i am open to zipping down to Joondalup hospital should the need arise, it's just not my first preference.

charlie

unresolved thought

while we were in Africa we read about The Lord's Resistance Army. It was probably one of the most horrible and disturbing things i've ever read. The LRA apparently is a rebel army in northern Uganda. They brainwash and use children to commit horrible inhumane offences. They are psychological conditioned to think perverted violence is a normal part of manhood and are severely beaten or killed if they don't do what they're told. Children are told to pray to the Holy Spirit for courage to commit vile and evil acts (including raping and murdering younger family members) and it's all done in the name of Jesus.

unfortunately i have a vivid imaginations and after reading about this i spent the next few weeks imagining what it must be like to be a kid today in the LRA.

imagine a 12 year old kid who has been exposed to the brain washing but the LRA hasn't quite killed his spirit yet and somewhere in his heart he's knows it's wrong. he has seen some of his little buddies severely beaten for not following orders and is deeply afraid this will happen to him. and then one day one of the bosses comes along and tells him he has to commit some horrible offence against someone he knows. The kid is told to pray to the Holy Spirit for courage to be a man and they will be leaving in an hour to go and bring justice in the name of Jesus.

The kid is deeply afraid and goes of to his room to get his gun. He wants to be a man. He wants the admiration and respect the older boys get from being brave. He prays to Jesus to help him follow his orders. He takes out his gun and imagines what the people will look like as he shoots them. His stomach turns. His spirit cringes. He weighs up his options. If he refuses he'll be beaten or killed. If he runs away he'll probably starve in the desert.

one of his boss's comes in and tells him to pick up his gun. the kid doesn't move. the boss moves closer and raises his voice 'Jesus is Lord. Pick up your gun'. the kid is absolutely terrified but follows his heart, 'I hate Jesus' he yells and tries to make a run for it...




this scenario doesn't fit my theology. in fact it exposes some gaping holes in it.

can someone follow Christ without actually knowing it?
can someone hate everything they know about Christianity and still usher in the Kingdom of God?
can someone deny Christ with their words but actually be a true disciple of Him in their life?
how much is it about language and labels?


i know this scenario seems very extreme to us. the 'Jesus' presented to this kid was obviously a perverted version.

are we capable of presenting a perverted 'Jesus' in milder ways?...



God is Good.
God is Love.

maybe following goodness and love is enough?

6 months preggas... yeah! still looking good for home water birth. can't wait for the birth experience, which is weird coz i'm expecting it to hurt. the normal fear my brain usually associates with pain doesn't seem to have kicked in??? blissful ignorance perhaps??

been practising my 'breathing through the pain' techniques. was about to take my dog for a walk with mum on monday. opened the gate and a brick fell from above my head and landed on my foot. mum whisked me off to hospital as my right foot took on strange new forms. doc thinks it's broken but we decided not to get it x-rayed coz of baby.

fortunately we're staying with some mates at the moment, so there's plenty of people running around to make me cups of tea :) i love friends.

it's been good practice at not being in control. especially that moment when it hurts like hell and all you can do is sit there and be. something us westerners don't seem very good at.

end of 2006

so many definitions have changed. i find myself saying the exact same things i used to say but now meaning something entirely different. here are some of the words i have redefined in 2006...

need
church
Christian
faith
unity
Truth

let's just pick one... 'faith'

old definition of faith: believing that the bible is true; believing certain sentences in my brain such as 'jesus is the son of God and he takes away the sins of the world'; believing that God would answer my prayers; attending church; knowing how to get into heaven and roughly knowing who would and wouldn't make the cut;

my new definition is much harder to put into words. it's more of an awareness than a logical sentence. i'll use some of michael yaconelli's title chapters to help me.

new definition of faith: dangerous wonder; risky curiosity; wild abandon; daring playfulness; wide-eyed listening; irresponsible passion for Christ.

my old definition of faith felt much safer. and i must confess that it was my insecurities, ironically my lack of faith, that kept me believing it.

i tried to believe so many things.. i really did. but i suppose if your trying to believe something then you don't really believe it at all.

preggas :)

i am pregnant

tear...
smile...
breathe...

i am a walking miracle.
God is moving inside me...
forming, moving, creating
right now as i sit at this computer.

i have never been so aware of how miraculous i am. my body takes bits of carrot and spinach and turns them into retinas and brain cells. i am smarter than einstien's conscious knowledge. i am more creative than van gogh. i have never felt so amazing, so proud, so clever, so powerful.

but at the same time...
i have absolutley no idea what's going on. i feel completely out of control. my body is doing the wierdest things with no consultation of my conscious brain what so ever. there's an alien living inside me leeching me of vitamins, minerals, calcium, and if i don't sleep enough it feels like it's leeching the living day lights out of me. the pain of labour looms like a time bomb. i have never felt so lost, so out of control, so completely powerless.

and somehow in the paradox of power and surrender is the most beautiful thing we have ever done.

so many times i come to this page wanting to blog, but of late it seems non of my experiences worth noting have fitted english words.

i want to blog because i know it's good for me. it brings some mental order, some cognitive equilibrium, it helps me make sense, or at least helps me believe i've made sense.

but somehow the words i use are never very accurate and they never really describe the way connect with the world. the order of my life seems better described through the cellular structure of a sprouting seed than these funny little lines and shapes called letters.

i try to write about God but somehow He is always on the other side of the next sentence and never quite summed up in the last.

beautiful spring morning.
hubby at work.
all is well, except for the massive 9 legged huntsman that's asleep in the hallway.

'it's ok' i tell myself in my best reassuring voice, 'i'm a mature adult, it's one thousandth my size, it's asleep and the poor thing is disabled (9 legs)'. i've even named it 'Herman' because naming your fears makes them less scary.

so far the mornings going well. i'm feeling proud that i'm not being ruled by fear. i've even done a little relaxed reading.

but the tensions rising. i need to pee and Herman's blocking my way to the loo...