September 22, 2006
My husband comes in shaken. He saw it all.
A popular beach shop and a once favorite restaurant mark the mile.
We drive by and I am heartsick again.
…two women cross a street, it is too dark.
…a driver forever seeing them too late in nightmares.
…a grandfather buries his wife and his daughter
…a young father returns from vacation with his motherless child to a house he will sell because the memories are too painful.
years pass… and we remember.
I heard the lines again, and I know You remember too.
“… if hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait for one hour
Watching for our Savior…”
The song was playing 5 years ago as we traveled home… on the radio, in the gas stations, again and again I listened and wrestled with questions and sovereignty.
We make the last turn towards home, and the song plays again. I remember. How can I forget?
If You remind me, surely You remember, too.
And not just here… not just now…
Time heals? What about the memories that scar our minds?
Another night passes…
Another day begins…
The moon hides, the tides change, we rotate and revolve…
How does life go on? Yet it does. And, where are You?
You see the sparrow that falls, but You didn’t catch it.
And, what of the crippled sandpiper caught again by the wave… Do You see?
Unable to run, he struggles for his daily bread, is caught and is tossed again and again.
He fights to escape and flies.
…and all for a nibble of something I can’t even see.
You see. You know.
I see and am surprised how one bird’s plight brings a wave of grief for another that I know to be suffering today.
Precious struggling ones…
We are the grieving father, the cripple, the man in the tree, the woman at the well. We are caught in sin, trapped in our legalism and tradition, blind and lame. We are the leaper in a cruel world of Pharisees and Romans. How can we escape from the madness of this fallen world?
Oh, Wordsworth, I agree, “The world is too much with us!” This hard, hurtful, dying, aching, painful atmosphere surrounds and suffocates us.
We limp along.
If I know and I choke back the tears, You know.
I am moved, and You comfort me with the knowledge that You know and You are good.
Oh, groaning, frustration, bondage, decay…
Though in pain, we are filled with hope and eagerly wait for our adoption, redemption of these bodies… patiently because in our weakness You help us.
And, in the end, somehow we will say with you, “It is good.”
I see beauty amid the mess of it all.
My camera catches the moment
and I see a glimpse of what was lost.
Is something left from Eden?
You stepped into our world to heal the broken heart and rescue us from the inescapable grip of death.
You know our pain.
“A bruised reed he will not break,” Is. 42:3, Mt. 12:20
Sweet, Gentle Savior, we are so vulnerable.
Dear God of all Comfort, be near to the family of Kara Butler and Cheryl Yarger tonight. I remember. I know they remember. You remember. Thank You for hope. Thank You for Jesus. Thank You for the Comforter You left with us. You take away the sting.
You are my hiding place; You will protect me and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Healer of hearts and minds, heal us.
“This is what it means to be held.”