Sometimes the Naming is hard.
7 years and 4 months without our son, sometimes makes the naming hard.
It still catches me off guard.
The grief.
The ache.
The longing.
A reordering of how life should be.
There’s room where there should not be.
And the Naming of that for which I am grateful is work.
Practice.
A soul work.
Because when the words do not flow and the heart hurts the desire to focus inward often trumps all else.
I sit with the ache for a few days.
It’s Thanksgiving and there is food to make and pies to bake.
And my heart just longs for a glimpse of my red headed boy.
I long to hear his voice and hold those rough worn hands so much like his dads.
Sometimes the Naming is hard.
The farmhouse is full with kids off from school and a little leisure time on their hands.
They laugh and giggle and tease each other.
We struggle with friends coming over in a Pandemic and these times feel heavy.
Sometimes the Naming is hard.
Even in the season of practicing the naming daily. . . I struggle.
I should want God more than any hurt or ache and . . .sometimes the naming is hard.
I make breakfasts and lunches and scratch out last minute grocery lists.
I create a list for each day before Thanksgiving.
Tasks to be completed.
It seems easy to make those to do lists.
Structure.
Rote.
So my heart won’t feel.
But isn’t that what I’m missing?
I sit with my ache for a while.
I let it hurt.
I sit in the quiet and stillness of a snowy morning and let pain wash over.
Surprisingly I begin the naming. . .
A habit.
Established through practice.
Sometimes the naming is hard.
But sometimes the naming is all we have.
I sit a little longer with the ache.
I am reminded of the peace that comes with sitting with God.
He knows that ache you’re carrying.
He holds our tears and writes our names on the palm of His hand.
The joy comes ever so slowly.
Filling the crevices in the deepest part of my being.
I am loved.
I am held.
God has a purpose for all this pain.
He turns our mourning into dancing and places joy in our path.
Sometimes the naming is hard; but it is always the better way.
30 Days of Thankfulness
Autumn
I am thankful for:
The practice of naming our gratitude
Hot coffee in my mug in the early morning quiet
a God who reaches down to sit with me in my ache
17 years with a red headed, handsome, witty, blue eyed boy
a God who never, ever lets me go. . . even when I forget
A farmhouse full of life and fighting and love
a farm boy who is making his way in this world
technology so we can connect with nieces and nephews and grandchildren
Kids who want to spend time with us
the hard times and the growth our souls experience
Christmas lights
The promise of a baby in a manger
