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May 17, 2006
There was a tree in our yard...
And it might have been the tallest tree I'd ever seen. And then there was Miracle, never one to miss an adventure, climbing that tree while Little Momma and I stood on the ground below, watching his progress skyward. It seemed like it took forever, but he was moving pretty quickly. Once he was near the top, he climbed out on a large branch and scooted down onto the swing we'd spotted from the ground when we first noticed the tree. It was an old-fashioned rope swing with a sawed-off plank seat. Miracle started pumping his legs, getting the swing going higher and higher, faster and faster, and the sounds of his delighted laughter drifted down to us like autumn leaves.
It didn't take long for me to realize that he was going for the Gold, the school-boy's crowning glory, swinging high enough to circle the branch, and suddenly it wasn't fun any more. At least not to me. I was scared. And then, there it was, two shapes moving out and away from the top of the tree. One was Miracle, and the other was the swing, close together at first, but fanning outward, apart, both moving downward, but still outward, until I lost sight of them both over the treetops.
I began running then, down the street, across yards, through the woods, into the open, across other yards, in circles, praying for miracles, praying for Miracle. I realized I was lost and didn't know which way to go or where to look, and I stopped to dial 911.
Something woke me then. Was is Schnookie playing drums on the floor in her endless battles against the flea army? Or Miracle lightly snoring beside me? I don't know, but I woke, and when the steady sound of Miracle's breathing reached into my consciousness, I spoke aloud, "Thank You, Jesus," and began crying, big old sobs. And I cried for the next ten minutes.
It was all a dream.
And then, after the fear dissipated, after the tears subsided, fresh sorrow washed over me in waves for my brother who wakes up every morning to find it's not a dream, that his Kim is indeed gone from this world, although she lives in Heaven. And for Eddie's mother who wakes up every morning to find it's not a dream, that her Edward, too, husband of sixty-plus years, is gone.
And my heart breaks... and I prayed... and I pray... and I claim His promises... "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4
Father God, please bless Clinton... comfort him... hold him in Your big old hands... give him peace that surpasses understanding... and joy... and pleasure in this life... give him purpose and hope and abundance... and strength and wisdom and confidence... give him direction and guidance and sustenance... give him friendship and love... give him something to smile about every single day... and give him the gift of laughter... heal his broken heart... and fill it with You... and Father, use Your special touch to cause the memories of their love and lives together to be a source of strength and joy to him, and a way that You lift him up.
And do the same, Father, God, for Eddie's mom who is newly widowed... and for Cindy's sister whose son died in Iraq... and for all the hurting hearts out there who wake up every morning to find it's not a dream... that someone they loved really did die... that someone they trusted really did leave... that health they took for granted really is failing... heal the broken hearts, God...
Comfort those that mourn....
Posted by Spiderlillies at 12:53 PM | TrackBack