Grief influencing my expected rhythm.
Unwanted, disruptive, very sad.

I woke to the news of her death early on February 6.

Anticipated.
“Short leash”, “weeks”, “days”, “minutes”.
The minutes, the days long and so slow.

Plans were made; plans were changed.

Emotions came, emotions went.
Sadness, anger, confusion, frustration — all real.
God saw. God knew. God wept.
I’m known.

Love was whispered; love was heard.
Forgiveness offered; forgiveness received.

Laughter mingled with tears.

The gift of words, of hands, of hugs.

Sleep was difficult; sleep was deep.

Food prepared; meals eaten; laundry continued.
The calendar says Valentine’s Day.
Life.

Condolences arrive — more tears.

Wisdom, gentleness, kindnesses abounded.

Prayers were whispered. Prayers were answered.

Peace is real and not real.
The hope of heaven sustains.

Trampoline reality.

May God be lifted up and glorified; as He was in life, may we experience it in death.
Or, is it not death, but new life, eternal life.

There is lightness in the writing.
A piece of joy is breaking through.
Peace that passes understanding.
Our far more abundant God.

Light in darkness.

A quiet rhythm.
A confident rhythm.
The rhythm of the path of life.

“You made known to me the path of life;
in your presence is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”
Psalm 16:11

 

The backstory, click here and here and here.
Rhythm, click here.

 

copyright Susan Tell, February 2020