Ugliness Transformed Through Grace

*Describe a time when you saw something ugly, then found the beauty*


I see

 Machines, tubes, coils of wire, and a plastic box that holds a little being, a little soul, a little life.

A tiny needle pierces her soft scalp, tape on her face firmly holding the tube inserted down her throat.

I hear

 Electronic sounds that swoosh and beep, echoing through my entire body. No cry from my babe whos vocal cords are stretched by a ventilator...only tears tracing a path down her face. Silent wailing.

I smell

   The sharp antiseptic smell that reminds me not to touch anything...my nose twitches. The sweet fragrance of newborn skin absent.

I feel. 

 My hands tingle, spots of red where I scrubbed hard, trying to scour away any trace of bacteria, disease, possible infection that I carry just by the sheer fact I'm living.

 Tears, stinging my eyes and a throat impossibly tight with the effort of holding back sobs.

 My hands pressed against the smooth, hard plastic that separates us...for the first time in 9 months.

Being wheeled into the room, my postpartum brain only an hour old, my senses are assaulted. 

 I see, hear, smell, and feel.
Ugliness...pain...death....grief. 

 This is not where I am supposed to be.  

Somehow this ship docked in a different port. Not the sun warmed beach of my intended destination. Instead I've been washed onto the land of a frozen, cold foreign place......and I am sad,confused and angry. "I am not supposed to be here!" is the wail that longs to escape from my  mouth.

Ugly.

God's grace sweeps in ...without my invitation...and alters my senses.

I see. 

 Machines, tubes and coils of wire that sustain life for my babe. 

 Blue eyes that are impossibly large on a rounded face. Rosebud mouth, tiny nose, ten fingers, ten toes, seashell pink ears.

Other mothers eyes that hold mine in empathy.

I hear.

Steady beat of a heart, breath being breathed into tiny lungs, murmuring medical voices, soft lullaby falling from my lips.

I smell.

 Cleanliness...freshness....purity....life.

I feel.

Thankfulness for the medical care that surrounds, comforted by the caring nurses.

Blessed by the wonder of our newest miracle, and cradled by the wings of my guardian angel.

Beauty.

Promise transforms into ugliness which contains beauty. 

Seeing with our heart, with faith eyes, the beauty that is always there.

Sometimes hidden.... but always there.

Inspired by: The Red Dress Club
Shared on:  Poetry Potluck

*That "little babe" is now a healthy, happy, sweet, and sassy 13 year old. (in case anyone was wondering)  :)