Good morning, God, whoever you are.
My heart offers welcome.
I sense your calming, caring presence
as this stiff, aging body stretches
tentatively into the day.
From the news on NPR to the sounds
of chanting from a cherished CD,
from the whisper of the comforting
hear to the songs of the towhee and
robin and wren outside my window,
my world is filled with signs of life
and living, even in the midst of
memories of the dear departed
which accopany me during these
February days, death relentlessly
stalking my mind and heart.
Comfort this one small person today,
Grandfather God. As I crawl into
your lap, caress my tear-stained face
with your tender hands and hold me
close for just a little while.
Is that your dear voice I hear
whispering, "Precious child, this, too,
shall pass," in my ear?
Twenty years ago today my eldest son died. Though much time has passed, I miss him still and remember, remember, remember...
With tear-stained face I watch the shades
of night fall on this pain-wracked day.
My God, my God, will this grief never end?
For twenty years I've walked this road
of sorrow, this trail of tears.
Can I not let it go- or will it not release me?
Or is it simply that this mother's heart
breaks with regret- for what might have been,
for what will never be?
Most of the wounds have healed,
I think. The healing balm of gentle grace,
administered by loving hands and hearts,
has done its work. And yet...and yet...
A wound remains which only
you can heal, Holy One.
A wound remains which needs
your healing touch to make me
truly whole again.
help my unbelief. Amen
|Mom and Dad with Carl|