To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak...Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4, 6-7 KJV
I have received a lot of extra hugs, phone calls and e-mails of love and reassurance since my last post. This community of friends and family God has placed me in amazes me continually as I walk this path. At every turn, I am greeted by a friend offering something that blesses me and heals me in a special way. All of you are such an important part of living - that glorious experience, a free gift to each of us, infinitely sacred and beautiful. I think of the things that are beautiful: oil paintings, photographs, quilts, old hand-hewn furniture and tools, antique machines of all kinds, certain colors, textures, plants, sounds, and smells. All these are just snapshots of a beautiful, panoramic, constantly changing landscape of life. It is the complicated and beautiful nature of my life that makes it so difficult to give up as it is today. It is like taking my most treasured possession...that thing that I value and guard and keep in a secret place...and handing it over, palms up, eyes closed, not wanting to see the moment in which it could be taken from me. Putting on vulnerability as a garment, with humbleness and faith and dignity.
It comes and goes, this grief over loss. It is not constant, but washes in and out in waves, with lulls in between that are so peaceful. It feels natural, organic. Merciful. Quiet.