As I head back to work next week and savour my last few days on holiday, I was profoundly struck by an empty barn on the side of the road. The barn bumped into my heart. As words flooded my mind, I grabbed my trusty notepad and quickly penned impressions.
As I furiously wrote while my husband drove, I became keenly aware of grief. Why do I feel sad? Why are words of despair flowing instead of hope? Then, I remembered, a few days ago, while enjoying beach time, watching birds frolic in the air… it occurred to me that I should call my Mom.
My heart froze as the truth rolled over me… Mom died over 5 years ago. There would be no call and there will never be a call… Full stop.
I spent time with my aunt this week and she talks of the “Great Reunion”. The Great Reunion yet to come when we see the ones gone before us. Grief is a funny thing. I told my aunt about my thought to call my Mom and she shared that she still thinks of calling her Mom. My grandma, her Mom, died 50+ years ago. Grief is slippery, just when you think you have it tamed, it rises up and slides down your cheeks.
My only hope IS the Great Reunion. My faith is secure that my Mom will be in front of the huge throng of loved ones gone before me and she will happily greet me at the gates of eternity. I look forward to hearing her voice, burying my face in her neck, smoothing her hair, wrapping my arms around her, and filling my nose with her scent. She will be love, perfect, without flaw, forgiven, and forgiving and I will be home.
Until then… I WILL grieve, I WILL miss her, and I WILL cry.
The Barn Is Empty
The barn is empty, the windows shattered
A hollow shell of dreams unfulfilled.
Where lies the spark of hope?
The boards hang listless, tired, broken
A testament of loss and sorrow.
Where lies the ember of passion?
The loft is open, a yawning chasm
A scream of silent grief unyelled.
Where lies the seed of healing?
The ground is dry, grimy, forlorn,
A field of weeds gain a stronghold.
Where lies the peace unfurled?
The wind is blowing, the dust wounds
A biting sting upon my face.
Where lies the healing balm?
The space is empty, harsh, unyielding
The scent of dark and dankness surrounds.
Where lies the fragrance of mercy?
The walls are hollow, empty, rattling
A bleat of fear echoes around.
Where lies the murmur of trust?
The knees buckle, tears streaming,
A heart releases pain, anger, anguish
Where lies the compassionate ear?
The soul is full, the eyes unshadowed
Unburdened, dry tears upon the cheeks
HERE lies the Healer, Redeemer, and Reunitor.
Aug 22, 2019