Anglican Diocese of Armidale

The Anglican Diocese of Armidale exists to glorify God by introducing people to Jesus and helping them home to heaven.

 

In Focus

A voice from the womb

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

You don’t know me. In fact, I have not been named yet, though I expect that names will have been considered. I say, “names”, because my brother and I have been forming a unique bond while being prepared for a grand entry. I believe that those in the outside world have studied and know and understand the mystery of the unique bond twins share.

We are, of course, not very familiar with the outside world other than our experience of sounds, touch and a measure of light. While you may not remember the womb, I have to say that our inside experience is like a first class motel. We have our own pool they call the “Amniotic” and there’s food and drink on tap while we swim. The perfect conditions for retreat, exercise and general good health.

Neither of us are religious yet, but the design of our accommodation speaks volumes of the genius of the one who made it. In fact as I say that I feel like one of those judges on “The Block” addressing the extraordinary design of the builder. So good is it, where we are, it would seem that only disease or some outside influence could affect us detrimentally.

We booked into this accommodation about 24 weeks ago and at six weeks the adventure was so great that I began to find time to think and have been developing my thoughts ever since. It was like my brain had started to work. I discovered uses for hands and fingers and while able to wriggle my toes I wasn’t sure of their purpose. Nothing in my experience seemed wasted so I guessed their purpose would eventually become known to me. To my puzzlement my brother had an appendage that I did not have and like all puzzles we both thought the future would bring understanding. “Wonderfully made!” was my thought. All of it: the accommodation, my body, even my brother if I am truthful. It felt like this was just the right place to be knitted together. From our perspective, my brother and I live in wonder of what the future will bring. From where we began the future seems to offer limitless opportunity and adventure, more to think about, loves to be enjoyed and contributions to be made. 

This is our world at the moment and it has felt safe but in truth we feel a little vulnerable as our pool is becoming a little turbulent. Something has been introduced and things all seem to be happening at the wrong time for us. My brother is increasingly anxious and for both of us our discomfort is becoming palpable.  My unnamed brother is struggling and his kicking has stopped. In my own distress I have tried to reach him but it’s as though he is no more. I feel he is gone and that I am losing touch with the things I had being growing to enjoy. I am slowing now and it’s hard to think and respond to what I feel and the loss I am experiencing. Perhaps this is all life can offer me. Could this be all there is? Is there no outside world at all? No love, no compassion, no care, no life beyond the place of my accommodation? That must be the case or otherwise someone would act to save my brother and me.

I seem to have little time left so I will leave a eulogy of sorts for those who might come to this place after me. As life is ending I am looking to the one who gives life, the one who fashioned my accommodation and knitted me together with life. If there is a world outside then I think those who live there would call this one, God, unless they have forgotten Him. That would of course have to be the case if they have forgotten my brother and me.

Well, you don’t know me and I have no name but I am learning that God knows me and will care for me. Strangely I get the feeling that God even loves and cares and stands ready to forgive those who choose not to care for the likes of me and my brother. If that’s you then perhaps you could go to Him for the help you need for life.