They have brought feed to the cows, fed calves. . .helped milk.
It has encouraged him.
There is nothing that seems right.
Everything looks and sounds different.
We are all trusting. . .
Wondering how to do this.
I drop the kids off at Youth Group and I head to the grave.
The waves of grief come.
I knew they would, I can’t hold them in any longer.
It’s been an emotional weekend.
I cry to God as I have so many times. . . Why didn’t you intervene?
I love you so much. You have my heart. . . Why? What is the purpose in this?
I have longed to serve you. . .
Why my son?
Today there is no peace at the grave.
It is dusk.
It is cold.
It is rainy.
I head home.
Elijah’s place at the dinner table is empty.
I have tried setting a place.
I have moved all the “table clutter” to that spot.
Yes, I have table clutter, and house clutter. . .lots of it.
It still seems wrong.
These are the things that break your heart, over and over;
that no one tells you about.
How can they? There are no words to describe this.
I decide to place a candle at his spot.
A symbol of light.
It brings me peace.
And fills the hole.
Elijah and the rest of the kids loved when we ate by candle light.
It seems fitting now.
Isn’t God’s love like that?
It illuminates the darkness.
Just a small light brings such comfort.
That’s all it takes, one small light.
And I run to the only place that will bring the comfort I seek.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.