They’re building at the accident site.
Someone has put a Quilt Show sign right in front of the pole.
I am sure they have no idea that the heart of a
17 year old ceased to beat in that space.
That the ground holds his blood.
But the sacredness of that space is temporal.
His spirit was gathered in a cloud and whisked to the holy of holy’s.
Reigning now with the King of all Kings.
A life time is being lived while part of me still remains; there.
She looks me in the eyes.
This wise teenager.
So different from the others.
She leans over and says listen to the words of this song.
She turns up the volume and walks into school.
“You can’t add a single day by worrying”
But you’re not on your own
How did she know I carried the weight of the world?
The missing digging deep, my aching heart.
Longing for my son.
For the way it was.
For the way I was.
I try to remember his laugh.
A memory I can’t escape.
I lean into the truth.
The sacred came down to earth.
The holy; divine.
With out stretched arms, Jesus gathered Elijah.
While I am left here.
This was not an accident outside of the hand of God.
He was aware.
He is in control.
This paradox is hard to grasp.
It is 39 months since my oldest boy walked the land of his fathers.
I still travel a path I do not like or understand.
I wrestle deep in my soul day after day about truth.
No matter how hard I try.
I will never understand, this side of eternity, why this is my path.
I return time and time again to the Ancient Word.
Stepping in to the Hope given for all.
The hope that turns mourning into joy.
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
I will still pass the pole multiple times a day.
Praying for protection for those that drive that path.
Asking God to help me not recoil each time I pass that way.
You’ll find that He’s enough
Oh you never leave His love”
He’ll carry us through.
We’ll seek joy with purpose.