The womb that cannot bear new life
is, instead, bearing pain.
Seemingly meaningless and devoid of promise,
for the hard grip – twisted deformed rocks –
makes it unrecognized as gift…
The fruit of love conceived
in union with the Pierced Heart
shedding blood, suffering,
giving of oneself for the other…
The womb that cannot carry
feels the weight of souls.
© 2017 Christina Chase
Although crippled by disease, I am fully alive in love. I write about the profound wonder and terrible beauty of life while living with physical disability and severe dependency. Unafraid to ask life's big questions, I was briefly an atheist and considered other religions before finding, in God's choice to intimately share our humanity, what it truly means to be fully human. A revert to the Catholic Faith, I blog weekly and have written a book called It's Good to Be Here.