I can feel the force of the grief, another small tragedy. His death, like his life, will be a small story, buried beneath bigger fires, the roiling of big boy fights, what is the death of one little boy when the world is burning?
Everything.
His life was everything
To him
And to the One who stood at the field of Heaven
Waiting all those days to welcome him home
Wipe away every tear
No more crying
No more pain
It was a simple thing
The man reached in and snapped off the treadmill
Came in very close to the boy’s face
Told him “the rules”
Only it turned out “the man” didn’t know the rules as well as he thought he did
Rules like the way a single pebble can make a concentric circle across the whole chest of a river
Or the way the question about what you would do with a time machine
Might just define a person
Forever, forever is how wide and how deep and how long I will
Love you like a pebble
Thrown right at the heart
Of moving water.
When I was dealing with the trauma of finding out that a little boy I had taken in as a toddler had grown up to become a terrible person I
Had three things
I decided to use as grief-points:
Get a nose ring
Shave my head
Get a tattoo.
This week I have had to face that sometimes “a tattoo” is a luxury item
In a pandemic
In the way grief
Can worm its way into the fabric of who a person is
I am losing something else
Like a tattoo, a marker of the grief
And I found what I would put on that tattoo–
Love is
Unmistakable
I know something about being pregnant in a crisis. My heart goes out to any women who are facing a pregnancy in the midst of economic hardship and fears of Covid-19.
If you or someone you love needs support or prayers. Please leave a comment and let me know how I can help.
I can’t stop thinking about how he lets us
Draw pictures in the wet cement
Our little hands, our squiggly messages
No one would call this art
But they might call it
Mine, fierce love
I have watched (read) coverage of a big (really big) powerful (really powerful) Entity which has been recently caught out lying.
This particular lie involved a lot of people, maybe all of us. The Entity is pretty powerful.
And I have lived in the place they do. So I shoot off an email detailing my pain over the lies, the way victims’ voices were suppressed, the great need for western journalists to hear and report the truth.
When I went back to my sent folder the email had been erased. No content.
What happens when Big Brother can silence little sister? What happens when we, the free, let him?
I want to say so many things to
This man who does not really see
“This little girl”
But I know You
See her, see me, see them
All the little ones who
Need a God like You
Take my sins away, heal my wounds, stay until I am well, bring justice in your wings, never blame the victim, never stop searching for treasure
You
who were, who are, who always will be
Just You,
and “this little girl”
“Can you sew? The medical masks are running out or have run out where Covid-19 has hit hard. Please consider sharing this post.
Simple cloth mask tutorials are online and on YouTube.
Please sew and share.”
That was the original post, after news that Texas is already able to calculate when masks and other PPE devices will run out–in weeks. not months.
I get that “the economy” is important, but without some significant investment in the life and health of the millions of people who are and will be hit and the healthcare workers who will also be hit by the devastating consequences of Covid-19, just opening America for business may not be the wisest and safest way
To fight this contagion.
I do think that short of lockdown (best plan), we need to discuss store hours for seniors and the immuno-compromised, husbanding ventilator resources, and yes,
We are probably going to need those homemade masks
More than ever.
Matthew 24:7-8 KJV
[7] For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. [8] All these are the beginning of sorrows.
Carrying Light 