body worlds

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth...

My grandma and Devin and I were able to take a trip to the Body Worlds exhibit at the Science Museum as an early birthday celebration of sorts. There has been a bit of controversy over this anatomical showcase both locally as well as nationally since its origination. Though that alone peaked my interest from the start, I was curious to see how these authentic human specimens, preserved through Plastination, would play with my perception on the incredibility of life.

All of the displays are very interesting and informative, and all such obvious evidence of God's great work in what we call our existence. I could not get over the thousands of complexities and intricacies that each new body brought to life. But nothing was more moving than a room that was sectioned off near the end of the exhibit which held a mother and her 8 month old child yet to be born inside of her...

The moment I found my way in, I noticed two people sobbing on the opposite side of the room - one, a teen buried in the arms of her mother, the other, a woman in her thirties staring in amazement at the life portrayed before her eyes. The very first display caught me off guard as it moved me to tears instantly in the same way it had thousands more, I'm sure. I saw the fragile body of a 13 week old fetus and was struck with grief over our precious baby we lost at that very same stage. I had not grieved for a long time until then, and was softened to what that room truly represented...

I continued to grieve for the loss of the many lives I slowly passed by. The importance of Life and only Life slapped me in the face, and I was not able to see anything else for the remainder of the time. So much time spent finding ways to put uselessness and filth in a higher place than loving God and His people. The people He knit together piece by tiny piece, the people He breathed into existence and knows by name and every thought; the people He longs to hold as they come running into His arms. The people He sent His son to die for. The life too tiny for any human eye to see, and yet some feel they have the right to dispose of. I thought at that moment that every young woman should be in that room, seeing what I was seeing, knowing without a doubt that God creates nothing but Life and that without Him they know not what it is to Live...