He Knows the Mysteries of the Womb

It was my brother’s birthday and we were out shopping at TJ Maxx. I was done and wandering the aisles while he finished looking through the discounted sweatshirts. I meandered through the shoes, the athletic wear, and then came to the baby section. 

Why am I here? I wondered to myself and contemplated skipping it, but something kept me there. I fingered the soft stuffed animals and little socks. I smiled at the bibs and tiny onesies. Then I saw it. A soft swaddle blanket with little blue and gray whales on it. 

You don’t have a baby, I told myself and kept walking, but I was soon back. It was so beautiful. It captured the gentle yet majestic beauty of the ocean I love so much. I pulled it off the rack and held it. 

You could always save it for the next baby shower you go to. I couldn’t argue with myself, so I bought that little blanket, came home, and tucked it into my pajama drawer.

Two days later I took the first of four tests. 

Positive.

I was in shock. Three more positive tests, constant nausea, exhaustion, weepiness, and a tiny little baby nestled unseen in my womb. Turns out that little whale blanket had an owner after all.

The shock turned to joy and excitement and, all too soon, grief as that little life left us as quietly and unexpectedly as it had come. As my body shifted from cradling life to cradling death, I lay awake all night wishing with every fiber of my being I could stop it, somehow hold that precious one and keep them safe.

But I could not. It happened in my own body, yet there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

The initial sadness turned to numbness, then a quiet peace. I sat in my favorite chair and flipped through my hymnal. One of the well-worn pages naturally fell open and I read the lyrics of a modern hymn that have been dear in dark seasons before.

The perfect wisdom of our God

Revealed in all the universe

All things created by His hand

And held together at His command

He knows the mysteries of the seas

The secrets of the stars are His

He guides the planets on their way

And turns the earth through another day*

My mind immediately thought of the little whale blanket tucked into my pajama drawer, once again ownerless. Why is it that my baby will never snuggle into its folds? How is it that a life so small could take up so much room in our hearts? Who was this little person we will never fully know? 

He knows the mysteries of the seas.

My questions will remain unanswered in this life. I doubt any amount of thinking, journaling, or grasping for answers will bring them. So instead, I choose to leave them peacefully unanswered, knowing that the One who fashioned the whales of the deep also fashioned the intricacies of the baby that made me a mama. He knows the mysteries of the seas, the mysteries of the womb, and He knows me too. Knowing the One who knows is enough. 

The matchless wisdom of His ways

That mark the path of righteousness

His Word a lamp unto my feet

His Spirit teaching and guiding me

And oh, the mystery of the cross

That God should suffer for the lost

So that the fool might shame the wise

And all the glory might go to Christ*

The very act that brings me to know Him who holds the answers is shrouded in mystery. Why should Christ suffer for those who hated Him? How is it that He who was King was born in a stable? Who am I to know the peace of His atonement for my sins? 

Oh, grant me wisdom from above

To pray for peace and cling to love

And teach me humbly to receive

The sun and rain of Your sovereignty

Each strand of sorrow has a place

Within this tapestry of grace

So through the trials I choose to say

“Your perfect will in Your perfect way”*

To live long in this weary world as a pilgrim is to learn to live with mystery. We can let it drive us to despair as we seek to understand that which is above us, or we can let it drive us to marvel at the perfect One who knows no mystery. He holds the answers to every question, and He holds us too.

He knows the mysteries of the seas.

It was no accident I bought that little blanket. It was no accident this baby came to me. It was no accident they were taken away. 

They are each a thread weaving the tapestry of grace I will marvel at on heaven’s shores.

In the meantime, Your will be done, Father. The mysteries I hold are resolved in You. 

*Lyrics in italics from ‘The Perfect Wisdom of Our God’ by Stuart Townsend and Keith Getty