REVERIE

Decades ago my body said “no”.
Doctors confirmed it,
No life would grow here.

I thought I deserved it.
The places I’d been, the things I’d seen,
who was I to ever raise a child of integrity?

Accepted and marked each year at Mother’s Day,
nope, no child here, never will be.

A career to balance and pets to love,
a man who knew his title alone
would never be more than husband.

Years gone by, a barren land, scenarios played out in my thoughts
of how different life could have been.
Did I freeze my heart? Shut off the valve?
Turn my womanhood into a desert land deprived of a love that I would never know?
Was it me? My actions? A blessing? A curse?
What kind of world is this to bring a kid into?
Better off never knowing, or a lifetime of unfulfilled desire?
How does one know if they want a child when they’ve been told
it could never happen?
The choice taken away, the option defiled.

But what do doctors know when miracles happen,
their statistics and tests put to rest.
A life growing inside of me in a land I was told would remain empty.

How do I process an impossibility?

All those years of imagined possibilities now coming to pass,
each day I look down and see the effects
of a calling too deep for me to fully grasp.

Protect you. Keep you safe. In my womb, a barren land no more.
You moved in, found me worthy, a gift of love well into my thirties.

The doctors say I’m too old, be careful now and don’t expect to carry to term.

They didn’t see the dream I had, years ago, tucked away in the painful parts of my memory.
In this dream, I gave birth, you were perfect.
Grow little one, grow, don’t listen to what they say, this is our fight of faith, our victory day.
Almost time, are we ready?

Defied all odds, healthy as can be.
I felt you grow, kick and turn,
heard your heart beat pump your blood,
watched your life on a black and white screen.

Who are you little one? Who will you become?
The doctors still think you may not make it, prepared for the worst in their minds only.

It’s time, it’s now, for you to make an appearance,
to enter this world, a place where you are much needed.
My body was forced into a tug of war,
I wasn’t ready, but they said you were.

The early morning turned to noon,
still no sign of you.
A little while longer and they told me to push,
over and over, the pain pulling me under.

A few hours on repeat, my threshold broken,
the doctor came in and said we were down to one option.
With my permission they would prep the OR,
take you from me behind a blue wall.

What choice did I have, I did all that I could,
did my body fail me and you?
Little one I can’t go on, I’ve sweated I’ve cried, I’ve tried and I’ve tried.
Let’s go, hurry now, statistics are trying to get back in the game.

Fifteen hours of labor, three hours of pushing and you still aren’t here,
the doctor’s expression covers his fear. What complications does he await?
They whisked us away down the hall as the tears welled up and over my tired eyes,
down my cheeks to the hospital sheets.

I can’t let fear grip me now, I’ve seen your face, your future, your now.
Your dad – my husband – a calm support through the entire ordeal,
his hand in mine, our hearts entwined.

The doors pushed open to the starkness beyond,
the cold in the air touching my skin, anticipation creeping in.
Not long now, they said it would go quick. I waited in silence, your dad’s hand still in mine,
waiting to hear your first victory cry.

I focused on the sterility of it all, held down to the table behind that blue wall.
I felt them pull and I felt them tug, am I less of a woman for going this route?

“He’s pink! He’s pink! ” is what the doctor shouted and then there it was, the cry of your lungs!
How sweet that sound, that filled a hole in my heart, your voice, your cry, my baby, my boy!
“Let momma see him!” is what I heard next.
They held you up, above that blue wall, your little squished face is where my focus was now. How perfect, how right, you were just like the dream,
a promise was made and a promise was kept.

I longed to hold you, to pull you in close, but that couldn’t happen, not just yet.

They finished the birth and cut the cord, weighed you and cleaned you and wrapped you up warm.
I lay crucified on the table as they stitched me up good, still not in the clear.
Could I hemorrhage, bleed out, before I even hold you near?

Shhh, don’t cry little one, I’m right here, I’m here.
Soon you’ll be in my arms, breathing the same air.

So long yet so fast, you entered this world, a lifetime beginning.
To recovery we went when finally they put,
you in my arms, my sweet little baby, at last, at last.

Who are you little one? Who will you become?
A plan for your future, a reverie come to fruition.

Misty Moon © 2018

Just a quick update on the life of a writer with a 6 month old. I’m in the process of editing my first major book working with three test readers. It’s a slow painful process for me, hopefully not for them.

I’m behind on this project, so far behind. God redeems the time however and I trust this will be published when it is supposed to be. My goal is the end of the year at the very latest. We shall see.

Carry on.

It’s the start of a New Year. Today is the second day of it. I thought about challenging myself to blog every day this year but then I realized I was setting myself up for failure, ha.

We have a lot of changes coming our way in our little family. The arrival of our first (miracle) son is soon. 10 weeks…or less…I’m thinking less. Nicolas will be here in no time and I have lots to do before he is.

I don’t really make resolutions but I do prepare for a new year that offers new opportunities. Yesterday I spent the better part of my day cleaning out my desk and organizing everything in preparation for more writing and personal Bible studies/time in the Word. I am behind on my writing goals. I should have already had my 4th Bible study workbook published and available but I’ve been slacking in that department. The others are still available through www.mistymoonauthor.com 

I have the ever looming creative non-fiction novel hanging over my head screaming EDIT ME!! I should have had that book out two years ago but I trust all will happen as it is supposed to.

I think about all these things I should have done, could have done, haven’t done, need to do, will do, won’t do, maybe I’ll do…and I think about God and how he’s steadfast. In EVERYTHING. His Word never returns to Him void.

His Word in the beginning was fulfilled with the New Covenant, the New Testament. He made good on His promises. It’s all in His timing and His timing is always perfect. I like to think my timing on things is perfect but I don’t imagine God gets stressed like I do when I procrastinate on things being accomplished.

What if Jesus had been crucified before he performed all of the miracles he performed? What if he had ran away in the garden instead of giving himself willingly to the soldiers which started his funeral procession?

He knew and TRUSTED God’s perfect timing even though he may not have liked it. It was made obvious he didn’t like it when he asked in Matthew 26 that if there be any other way, he was all for it. There wasn’t another way though. God had already spoken on the matter.

God has already spoken about you and me as well. There are many scriptures that tell us who we are IN CHRIST. A few examples:

John 1:12 (KJV)

 But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name:

1 Corinthians 6:17 (KJV)

But he that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit.

Romans 6:6 (KJV)

Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin.

1 Peter 2:9 (KJV)

But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light;

There is an awesome book written by Pastor Mark Hankins called Power of Identification With Christ that is a more in depth study of who we are in Christ. We become unstoppable when we know who we are in Him.

Be unstoppable this year.

 

James 1:4 (KJV)

But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

 

Needing a unique Christmas gift? Try one of these! Purchase at www.mistymoonauthor.com, Amazon or Barnes & Noble online.

 

 

A huge thank you to Operate In Your Faith for selecting me as the Featured Writer for this quarter. Like their Facebook page and head over to their website to see my poem, “House of Hurt“. This poem is included in my upcoming poetry book, Seasons: A Cluster of Poetry, that should be available no later than August 11th.

 

“Dance Again” 

Depression is not something I have talked about openly before, other than with my husband. I go into more detail in the book I am working on but I am also easing into sharing my life with the world through social media before the book is released into the world.
I was never professionally diagnosed because I hid it and didn’t want help with it other than my own self medication through drugs and alcohol in my teens and early 20’s. I’m 38 now. My first suicidal thought was in kindergarten. It progressed as I grew older and I probably spent roughly 20 years of my life as an adolescent, teenager and into my 20’s where suicidal consideration was part of my daily thought life no matter how many smiles I put on.

When I rededicated my life to Christ at age 28, that stronghold over my life was broken. It no longer consumed me. However, there have been times since then when the enemy has tried to get me back into old thought habits but I have the Word of God to stand on and use it every time. The last couple of weeks have been trying and I felt the enemy trying to drag me back into a state of depression. I prayed through because I am able to recognize what it is and God always answers that call. Jesus took that stripe on the cross.

I’m not writing my story because I want to, I’m writing my story because God asked me to. There is someone who needs it. There is someone who  needs to know they aren’t alone. You always have options. You always have hope. Reach out to someone. Pray and ask God for help. I’m a living testimony of His Word and if He will do it for me, He will do it for you. YOU ARE LOVED.