What joy, what peace
Has come to us
What hope what help
The day begins with a visit from a stranger; now friend. A shared bond of sons torn from us; so young. Our friendship solidified when my unsolicited membership to the world of grief began. Her visit helps in the steps to move forward in this journey. I hesitate to say heal. This gaping wound may fill in; but the scars will remain, changing our appearance for all time.
We talk about hard things.
She, further down the road on this journey.
Still a mama with her flesh and bones in the deep of the earth.
She breaks bread at our table.
It is full for lunch.
And for that, I am truly grateful.
She leaves and I ponder our visit. I think on things that can never be again.
We head up to the neighbors to make crafts. I struggle to find things to do that are normal for the little girls. I don't want to become overwhelmed by the Advent Season;
but I don't want it to pass us by.
I want it to count. I want to ready my heart for the celebration of the Incarnate.
The God with us.
Yet it is hard. My earthly mind and heart ache with a longing which it can not have. The thought that we are made in God's image is beautiful. It brings great peace.
So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
Did God struggle when he sent Jesus away from heaven; away from all that is holy?
Down to this dark and sinful world?
How was it for him; the separation? For me, some days, are torture; to break the veil that separates the holy from the earthly is a constant desire. Yet, when the focus of self over powers all our minds; our vision becomes narrow. It is only in embracing the Incarnate, in dying to self that we can experience the fullness of all that Christ came to accomplish.
Empty all that you are, to be filled with all that He is.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
The girls finish their crafts. Complete with hot chocolate, candy canes and marshmallows. Such a wonderful way to spend the afternoon. We head out the door and it is snowing. Big, white, fluffy Christmas flakes. We drive down the hill. Back to our home.
The world is all white. The snow has covered all the dark of the death of the season. It lies in wait for Spring to bring rebirth. Regeneration.
I pray that this blanketing of snow will cover my hurt; my pain as I too long for the rebirth of my soul. Living life with out Elijah is just wrong in my finite mind. I grapple with the daily understanding that he is gone. Yet rejoice in the joy of knowing He is Home.
Our drive is over.
We head into our home.
There is a hot meal waiting.
The reminder that grace visits our door continually.
I breathe in deep the pine of the tree, the mingle of smells a soothing balm.
The holy meeting the Incarnate.
Waiting for the day when all things will be made right.
Come, Lord Jesus Come.
I have no gift to offer a King.
You have my Drummer Boy