Skip to main content

To Be Surprised










Anyone who has lost,
knows the trepidatious prayer.
The one barely spoken,
Whispered in the dark
surrounded by fear
and doubt
and the fragrance of despair.

I walked foward, one foot in front of the other,
wincing from the pain of my poorly thought out shoe choice,
my fingers lightly pinching the underside of my father's be-suited arm.

"When I wrap my arms around you
Every mistake we made crumbles
When I wrap my arms around you
Everything echoes a new song."
- Sondre Lerche 'To Be Surprised'

It's the song playing through my tunnel vision.
I'm so very focused.
And so very happy.
You're looking at me and your face is twitching with a million unshed tears.
I can't stop smiling.
My feet are really killing me now.
I let go of my father's arm and take your hands instead.
I want to swallow your eyes with mine so you can see my heart.
Because it all makes sense now.
Each tear I had cried in loneliness has culminated in this beautiful moment where I see that God has heard my prayers.
He gave me you.

Can he not do it again?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus

Philippians 4:6-7




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Joy

(This is not a pretty entry, but I felt it was time to finally share it. For a long time after my Edy died, I felt ashamed of the relief I felt. I felt ashamed that I didn't want to kiss her head because she was no longer alive. I felt like a complete failure as a mother, that I didn't deserve her and losing her was my punishment for being such a failure. God has walked Dustin and I through so much healing since then, He has amazed me with His faithfulness to restore, encourage, and heal all that has felt so very, very broken since losing our baby girl. There is still not a day that goes by that I don't think about her or miss her, but the grief no longer haunts me. I see how, in the hands of our very loving Father, the shadows of grief are dispelled and grief no longer becomes a fearful thing. Not quite friend, but no longer an enemy. Only God can turn our sorrow into joy, and that joy is so deep it becomes a cornerstone. It is no fleeting feeling, but a river of strength…

Sometimes Hot Sauce Leads to Hope

I just had one of those moments where someone in my life, who is no longer living, has just reached out and pointedly pointed to the words I so desperately needed to read. And looking back at my previously written sentence one could assume that this happens often.
No. It really doesn't.
Now, before anyone starts thinking this is a ghost story and that my next paragraph will begin with a "dark and stormy night", let me just put those thoughts to rest. That is not how my next paragraph will start.
It will start like this;
I was laying in bed with an upset tummy, possibly a flu bug but more likely the result of all the Frank's Hot Sauce I decided to dump on my Christmas mac and cheese. I had just finished watching the most recent episode of Project Runway Allstars and was browsing through Instagram and Facebook and....., well, digital garbage really, when I started to feel a sense of unrest in the region I like to call my heart.
You see, every once in awhile I look at …

The In Between

In that cave,
That dark and cavernous empty space,
A small light flickers
A warm glow piercing the cold shadows.

A little girl is crying,
Sitting on a rock and crying
That little girl is me.

The sorrow wraps around her
Swallows the air around her
I'm afraid it will never leave.

In that dark cave,
That lonely, damp cave
My Jesus sits beside me.

He's sitting in the darkness with me
And the darkness is not scary for him
He's not afraid of the dark like I am.


I was talking to a friend who has recently lost a loved one and I got this picture of  a little girl sitting in a lonely, dark cave. I could almost feel the dampness seeping through the stone that she was sitting on. The darkness was heavy, a weight I could physically feel. But as I looked through the telescopic lens of my removed perspective to the girl sitting on the stone and weeping, I could see Jesus sitting next to her. He was holding her as she cried and there was a warmth emanating from him. A soft yellow glow that encompassed h…