when you need to look beyond what happened...

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

he has a friend from college that he loves like a brother.

the one who stood as best man at our wedding,

this same friend? he has a wife who is beautiful and fabulous

and who i love like a sister

and over the years...

over the miles of separation...

our families have grown.

and we move to a city where we have no roots,

and they come to visit and make this house feel a bit more like home.

and months pass

and they have another sweet baby

bringing our grand combined total to 7,

when she posts a picture of our two who were born third

and he says it again, like he has before...

how each boy looks so much like their daddies dads.

and it's true.

it's written all over their sweet little faces,

the imprints of genes from the men who have come before.

the last time elias was held by his papa,

he was 6 months old.

i have the picture,

but i don't need it...

the image is emblazoned on my heart.

and my son,

the one who looks like his papa,

 and carries his papa's name,

buries his face in my neck tonight.

and i feel it,

the grief bubbling up.

the fighting against the coming of the next few days...

it's in the hardest moments, though,

when i look back at that picture,

see his dad's smile captured in the smile of our son

that He gives such comfort.

this season is difficult because suicide is difficult.

because i still can't understand why he hung himself on that tree...

why three of his sons had to find him that way.

and the legacy that he lived to leave could so easily become wrapped up

in a blanket of death.


i look at the smile of my son.

one decision made in a moment clouded and dark

can't extinguish the man that he was.

and that picture that captured the faces of  two sweet souls that i love

remind me that there is hope,

even in the moments of grief...

and that someday,

i'll see the fullness of His promise...

You turned my wailing into dancing;
You removed my sackcloth and clothe me with joy.
psalm 30:11