Storm Here
The storm has come, and my umbrella is holding up, though it is a bit leaky. I'm tired and everything moves in slow motion. Why is it like this when we grieve? Is it to make us slow down and take things easy? Is it so we can look all around us and notice more? It was raining all day the day we went to the funeral home and the cemetery, making plans, trying to honor his wishes as best we can. Rain and mist, a heaviness of air and heart. But I think God wants us to slow down and listen to Him, to notice his creation and let Him heal us. He wants our hearts to be heavy for a time so that He can lift them up, and see us rejoice.
I see him in the hospital bed, peaceful, but dying. Tied to a bed through tubes and machines and monitors. And then, I see him running, something he liked to do. Running, free of all restraint, eyes and mind clear, running for the pure joy of it. No longer sick, his face is like it was when he was young. And I think God wants us to remember the good as well as the bad, to dig up those images of a healthy and young loved one, so that we can have a glimpse of the glory they now enjoy.
So now we are left with his things. We sort through his life, piecing it together, making sense of it all, only to dispose of it in one way or another, because we must. All that we leave behind are things. Things that, while giving a clue as to what we were like, they can't tell or hold all of our essence. We have 2 bags of his possessions at our house, clothes and items he had on him when they took him to the ER. He left behind an umbrella, of all things. Maybe he knew we would need it, and maybe we will use it next time we have need. He also left behind running shoes. But he doesn't need them anymore, because he is running, free of all restraint, eyes and mind clear, running for the pure joy of it.
Be at peace, Justin.
"They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."
I see him in the hospital bed, peaceful, but dying. Tied to a bed through tubes and machines and monitors. And then, I see him running, something he liked to do. Running, free of all restraint, eyes and mind clear, running for the pure joy of it. No longer sick, his face is like it was when he was young. And I think God wants us to remember the good as well as the bad, to dig up those images of a healthy and young loved one, so that we can have a glimpse of the glory they now enjoy.
So now we are left with his things. We sort through his life, piecing it together, making sense of it all, only to dispose of it in one way or another, because we must. All that we leave behind are things. Things that, while giving a clue as to what we were like, they can't tell or hold all of our essence. We have 2 bags of his possessions at our house, clothes and items he had on him when they took him to the ER. He left behind an umbrella, of all things. Maybe he knew we would need it, and maybe we will use it next time we have need. He also left behind running shoes. But he doesn't need them anymore, because he is running, free of all restraint, eyes and mind clear, running for the pure joy of it.
Be at peace, Justin.
"They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."
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