I cut his hair.
This man I call dad.
Now ordered and known intimately by the memory thief.
He cracks a few jokes.
It's time to go.
I can feel the lump.
The elevator; a mind of it's own today.
My brother and I stand and wait.
It's the leaving.
I head to my car.
I call my farmer.
I can barely talk.
I list off the "not right's" and the pain of the past 27 months.
All the losses.
It clouds my evening.
It is not until the morning, when I wake to a new day;
when I walk to the end of the drive way;
and see the freshly fallen snow.
Snow that covers the ground as a blanket.
The air heavy with silence.
It is only then that I am reminded:
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."
Even this part of the journey,
is passing through the Father's hands.
He goes before us, he goes behind us. . . and he goes with us.
This was Gary's prayer at my brother Trevor's wedding.
A prayer I still remember so well.
And here on this snowy morning.
I rest in the knowledge that we are not alone.
Even in this.
God is here.
I look around me.
There are so many changes taking place.
27 months have changed my world forever.
But I will not be discouraged.
I will not be dismayed.
What about you?
Can you take courage today?
Are you able to step into joy?
I'd love to hear your story.
We all need each other.
Whom Shall I Fear?