it fell in great white flakes that new year's eve
2 years ago.
he pulled me up out of our fresh grief
out into the cold...
into the white.
he didn't say much,
but i don't think i did either...
too numb by the reality that now happened to be ours.
and the hour is early on this new year's eve.
finds me unable to close my eyes.
closing my eyes means opening my ears to memories of the sounds of grief falling and surrounding;
of that door opening and his voice calling my name,
the sound of my coffee being set down,
the sound of the wailing,
the shock,
his sobs in the night,
the hush in the magnitude of what we now knew.
but two years ago,
on this very same day,
as the body of his dad was found and cut down,
as our world fell apart
and everything tilted...
the cry of a baby boy was heard.
and i didn't know it, until months after i met them,
the ones who have becomes such dear friends,
of the birthday of this little boy who elias calls out for.
that as death ushered out,
life ushered in
and even as He allowed something horrific,
He allowed something beautiful.
and how can i not say that He is good?
He is.
and i write that with tears pouring down and a heart completely broken because sometimes life seems
anything
but
good.
because sometimes the choices that another person makes are
anything
but
good.
but God is.
God
is
good.
and His goodness can be found in the wail of a newborn
or in the wail of a widow.
this season, this year is coming to a close as the evening draws near...
but His Name will never lose it's strength - it stands strong always.
and i will write it again, because i need to,
Emmanuel.
God with us.
God with you...
and with me.
and whatever this coming year holds,
whether there is more trial
or more joy,
He is there.
ringing out in the middle of memories of pain and loss and questioning,
is the joy of a little boy who has stolen my heart and reminded me that there is such beauty to be found in the midst of the sad.
so we'll walk through the grief, each moment, each step...ask Him to come near to our hurt and our sorrow and trust that He will never leave us alone.
believing that He will continue to pour life in to what suicide hollowed out
with what started in the cry of a newborn over 2000 years ago...
happy birthday, sweet luke...
