The boy leaves me undone.
Most days are difficult.
Each word is poison and I can’t begin to help him.
He’s lost a brother. Dealt with his beloved father being so sick and he’s 14.
I would come unglued.
He’s still fragile in the faith.
And he’s lashing out.
But sometimes there are glimpses of what is to come.
The veil pulled back and the blue eyes shine.
There is humor and there is a sensitivity, so like his fathers.
But this growing and stretching is hard on me.
So when there is a calm. I embrace it.
When he leaves me undone. I count 1,000 gifts.
No headstone marks his space. . . yet.
The Lilies a marker. Something to do.
Some way to serve.
I place them.
That blonde haired, blue eyed boy hollers. He shouts it out loud;
Mom! What are you doing? Elijah hated those things.
And right in the middle of the graveyard.
In the deep crevice of missing and longing; I laugh.
And I am sure I made other noises that are not becoming.
But the grace that fills the heart when the laughter comes is warm.
That boy has left me undone.
Oh to be a people that can laugh and find joy even when the hurt is crushing.
weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.
I left the stinky Lilies at the grave.
One for my mom, one for my son.
I brought the other home.
One for my in-laws.
I will plant that stinky Lily somewhere here.
I haven’t been able to grow anything; but this, I will try.
Maybe I will see it grow.
If we can’t bend and yield to the Savior’s leading, we will be left behind.
We miss the grace he longs to pour out on his people.
Even in a graveyard there is hope.
I am reminded of the “Dance In The Graveyard” song Ana sang at her concert in the fall.
The drumming brings me to my knees missing my redheaded drummer.
He would have loved this song.
For me, it showed the joy of the sweet reunion we all long for.
Someday we will be reunited with our loved ones.
If you have surrendered and bowed low to the giver of life, this gift is yours.
We will laugh, and we will dance.
You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,