Today, as my husband David was driving to work, the bright autumn sunshine contradicted his heavy heart as he prayed for dear friends of ours who today are walking through the anniversary of their deepest loss.
This brought to his memory a poem I wrote in 1991, so he called me, and it was a beautiful moment as we paused to be in the same "space" for a moment, to remember the sadness, not only of the stories that long ago inspired the poem, but of the story our friends are living today.
And together, we wondered at the juxtaposition of light and loss.
We hung up, and I found my day detoured by a determination to find the poem. As it was written multiple platforms of computer technology ago, the task was daunting. I began my search...
our computer backups
our bookcases
our filing cabinet
and finally
those small boxes in the back of the attic labeled "Jill's junk."
And that's where I found it! Thank God we never threw away that junk!
I wrote this poem on September 22, 1991, the day my birth son turned five. This poem touches on my story plus two others - of a friend from my college speech team, and of a young married couple in the communication department at GMU.
That date no longer brings me sadness. The Lord brought healing to my heart over time, and then He gave me the unexpected blessing of being reunited with my birth son, who is a wonderful man of 32, husband, and father to two beautiful children!
Through the years, I've lived through other losses, lesser than the ones my friends remember today, and I imagine there will be more, for I've lived long enough to know that loss is a common companion on the human journey, a universal part of the human condition.
It is likely so have you.
What is our remedy? The answer is a "Who" rather than a "What"...
Through Jesus, "we have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" (Hebrews 6:19).
One day, October 24 will no longer bring sadness to the friends we stand with today, for they rest, in hope, on the Lord's promise of eternity in Revelation 21:4: "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever."
Do you find yourself today in a loss so dark that the sunshine hurts? It may not feel like it today, but
There is Hope.
There is a Remedy.
There is a Light that heals our deepest losses.
There is Jesus.
This brought to his memory a poem I wrote in 1991, so he called me, and it was a beautiful moment as we paused to be in the same "space" for a moment, to remember the sadness, not only of the stories that long ago inspired the poem, but of the story our friends are living today.
And together, we wondered at the juxtaposition of light and loss.
We hung up, and I found my day detoured by a determination to find the poem. As it was written multiple platforms of computer technology ago, the task was daunting. I began my search...
our computer backups
our bookcases
our filing cabinet
and finally
those small boxes in the back of the attic labeled "Jill's junk."
And that's where I found it! Thank God we never threw away that junk!
I wrote this poem on September 22, 1991, the day my birth son turned five. This poem touches on my story plus two others - of a friend from my college speech team, and of a young married couple in the communication department at GMU.
That date no longer brings me sadness. The Lord brought healing to my heart over time, and then He gave me the unexpected blessing of being reunited with my birth son, who is a wonderful man of 32, husband, and father to two beautiful children!
Through the years, I've lived through other losses, lesser than the ones my friends remember today, and I imagine there will be more, for I've lived long enough to know that loss is a common companion on the human journey, a universal part of the human condition.
It is likely so have you.
What is our remedy? The answer is a "Who" rather than a "What"...
Through Jesus, "we have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" (Hebrews 6:19).
One day, October 24 will no longer bring sadness to the friends we stand with today, for they rest, in hope, on the Lord's promise of eternity in Revelation 21:4: "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever."
Do you find yourself today in a loss so dark that the sunshine hurts? It may not feel like it today, but
There is Hope.
There is a Remedy.
There is a Light that heals our deepest losses.
There is Jesus.
