today i learned of a dear, dear HP friend's devestating loss of her second child. is there no boundary to the grief meted out? are we not given so much and then told, " no more...". I would previously have said, yes of course, yet today, I can only wish this were the case.
i choose to grieve with you
i choose to walk beside you.
we walk this journey together, you and i,
distant by earth’s miles, but not by the heart’s;
each knowing the other, less by the lines of our faces
and more through the footprints we leave on the pathway,
the pools of wisdom we leave beside it
for others to step into, enjoying its coolness,
soaking deeply in its cleansing,
allowing it to wash away the dust, the soil,
the tears of the journey.
here, now and until you need them no longer
i offer you mine.
lift the cup high, over your head and
let them run, splashing all the way to the ground…
let them wash your dusty, weary feet.
i choose to care for you.
those words spoken casually by some,
but intently from one whose compassion
becomes a torrent in seasons as this,
from one who has known the heart break of loss,
sent swiftly to you,
rushing down to a parched valley…
not in voluminous, drowning torrent,
but in rivulets of refreshing all around you;
ointment to apply to your wounds.
let this be salve to your loss-torn soul.
i choose to share with you.
graces, extended to me from others who saw the pain,
the burden, the travail of my journey,
these graces becoming mine to pass on.
words sent in comfort;
arms to wrap ‘round, hold and strengthen;
wisdom to bind up a broken heart…
grieving with you,
my tears i blend with yours
as together we weep.
please, drink these graces,
every drop of peace, hope and comfort…
let these revive your longing heart.
i choose to encourage you.
drink deeply from my well for the journey ahead.
draw from the graces of others all around you.
store it, hold it, let it revive and energize.
draw from the wisdom of the Ancient of Days,
for she lives…
she speaks to all who will hear, who will listen.
let her restore your tired mind.
all of this…
this is what i mean when i say today,
“i grieve with you”