He's cleaning out. . . his room.
Spending time in his son's room.
Picking through the pieces of a life.
I am left numb.
Head gear for Wrestling.
A procrastinator; like me.
Things we need to return.
Dry Erase markers for his white board.
His attempt to get organized.
I finger the holes.
One by one.
I don't want this to be my walk.
The burning creeps toward my heart.
It feels like it is too much to ask.
Too much to live this life without my son.
Too great a request.
The tears spill; trickle down my cheek.
I can't stop them.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
I miss him.
And no matter how hard I try.
No matter how great our God is; the fact remains.
There is no way around the pain and the suffering.
The walk is through the ache.
It is in the midst of the grief that we can cry Holy, Holy.
Holy is the Lord God Almighty.
It is in the deep, raw places that we find rest.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,
and I will give you rest
He is worthy of our praise.
He is where I put my trust.
He, will give us the rest.
I search through the pile my farmer has brought down.
I finger each item.
I dread looking into his room.
I breath deep.
I know there is purpose.
I cling to what I know.
Because all else fails.
There is nothing solid in this world but the One who spoke in a gentle whisper.
I Kings 19:11
So He said, "Go forth and stand on the mountain before the LORD."
And behold, the LORD was passing by! And a great and strong wind was rending the mountains and breaking in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind.
And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire;
and after the fire a sound of a gentle blowing. When Elijah heard it,
he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave.
I ascend the stairs.
I survey the room.
It looks so good.
Everything in it's place.
It's a step.
My farmer needed to spend time alone.
Grieving is hard work.
It is an intentional turn each day toward that which is Holy.
To stand on ground that is firm.
To hope in the future.
A future held in the palm of the One who breathed life into this world.
I can feel the gentle whisper.
I push away all other thoughts.
I want to listen for that whisper.
I want to push away all other sounds and distractions.
Push away all the lies and false messages coming through from this world.
The gentle whisper speaks of hope and strength.
Found only in Him.
I thank God for Elijah's life.
The Elijah of the bible.
The strength to step onward.
I am thankful for the years of Wrestling and Lacrosse.
I am grateful for hours of piano playing and drums.
Though these remain silent; My heart sings the melodies.
It's the part no one can take.
There will be no more memories.
But the gentle whisper will fill us with the strength to accomplish His will.
Because it's all about Him.
The cross is offensive to many,
while bringing strength to those who believe.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,
who have been called according to his purpose.