Friday, February 20, 2009

Dearest God,

It has been a week of dying and death. Two young people have died, ages 36 and 39, both from cancer. I have been in the midst of sadness and tears.

Although the weight of this suffering has taken its toll, I have also been in the middle of celebration. Two families have shown such love for their loved ones. I have listened to their stories of joy which further exhibits the kind of caring, loving relationships they have shared. I have seen the light shine in the darkness.

On Friday when I arrived at the home of the woman who had just passed, I was shown a telephone photo of a cross in the sky. Just taken on his way to the house, the man was strengthened and so was the family. It was a sign of your presence and what comfort it brought the family.

As I drove out of the driveway at 8:30 p.m. after having conducted the first funeral earlier in the day and made tentative arrangements for the second, I realized I had not only seen signs of your coming, I sensed your presence myself.

More and more I have come to the knowledge that there is no darkness so dark that the light cannot break in. The greatest amount of sorrow is still not so deep that joy cannot enter. No amount of brokenness is so large that healing cannot penetrate. All of this is possible because you come to us during those painful moments.

Although I have had my own tears for these two families and their loved ones, I have also discovered myself smiling, imagining the joy these persons have experienced with one another. There is blessing in all this.

I know the Ecclesiastes passage is true. There is a time and season for all things under heaven. I have clung to that truth so many times. When the pendulum moves toward loss and sorrow, I feel its despairing pain deep in my bones. My heart breaks, my soul wails. The time there sometimes feels so long, like maybe it will never end. But then it does. The slow movement in the other direction brings relief and hope. My heart, although never the same, begins the healing process leaving a faded scar. And my soul begins its rejoicing.

Only you,
Gracious God,
can make
all this happen.
You are present
in our midst
all the time.
You never
leave us.
Never.
We may not
see you
or sense
your presence
but then
something happens
and the reality
of your presence
becomes transparent.
Hope is born
at that
very moment.
And life continues.

Love, Andrea