3 Roses, 3 Years. . .Not Quite

3 Roses. 

3 years. . .not quite.

I see them silhouetted against the white back drop.

How does an 18 year old journey without her future? 

All she held dear; wrapped in a red headed boy that stole her heart;

now lies deep beneath the earth. 

Buried with her hopes and dreams.

Her memories her only solace.

In time, she will move on. 

She will continue to live; and all this, some day, will be a shadow of who she once was. 

It will be part of her story. Of what makes her who she is. 

This young girl has become so dear to my heart. 

She spent the last hours with him. 

She, the last to hear his voice; feel his embrace. 

My heart threatens to cease it's beat. 

She whose soft and gentle ways captured the heart of the red headed boy. 

I want it all to be just a dream.

I stare at the roses. 

My heart breaks for her. 

It really might shatter one of these days. 

A mama loves her babes. 

And to have the life torn from you, leaves you heaving heavy. 

I lift my eyes to the heavens. 

The snow falls softly. 

I continue to breathe in deep the fresh air;  great gasps as I cling to all that I know;

 as I recite scripture and bring all the world back into alignment. 

3 roses.

My heart slows. 

I walk slowly to the car. 

To my walk that is left here on this earth. 

To the chemo and radiation. 

To bills and the dark of winter.

To Christmas, minus one. 

To grace poured out for me. 

To the only place I can put my hope. 

My steps are stronger now. 

Matthew 11:28

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

 and I will give you rest.

I will find rest in the solace of the One who came as a babe. 

The greatest gift for all mankind, found in a manger. 

The One who called Elijah into being and the One who numbered his days. 

Here is a different Hallelujah.

One which reaches deep down to touch the Holy. 

May all your words be Hallelujah as you walk your journey on this earth. 

Even when you're broken, lost and hurting. 

May you know the everlasting hope that was given for you; the joy wrapped in swaddling cloth. 

And I think somewhere this song is being played in the heavenlies, 

with a red head playing the tympani.