This season.
It brings so many gifts.
Light. Long light.
Warming our skin and innards just a bit.
A little each year, perhaps the heart, mind and fibers of our being warm a bit more?
Letting go of the past seasons.
The past years.
Past scars. Fading.
Hurts. Healing.
Hearts. Opening?
Jesus.
Tomorrow we mourn your death.
Dieing for us. I can not comprehend.
You tell me it was for love. Is for love, that you died.
That you were beaten. Slayed. Fleshed open.
For love.
For love?
Do I even know that sort of love?
Letting go of the past seasons.
The past years.
Past scars. Fading.
Hurts. Healing.
Hearts. Opening?
He crawls inside my shirt.
Curls up.
"I'm a baby egg inside my mommy."
"I'm hatching. I'm your baby"
Comforts himself on my breast.
Close. He relaxes.
Breaths match.
Babe whimper. Quickly over.
Quiet.
Eyes distant.
Habitual "Love you Momma" off he runs.
Letting go of the past seasons.
The past years.
Past scars. Fading.
Hurts. Healing.
Hearts. Opening?
I gather the things.
Attempt to put them back in some order.
Drying each off.
Each time I step I'm reminded.
His shame to the surface. Flooded over.
Flooded the bathroom.
Craving rebuking. Comfortable in distance.
Doing all he can, to make me push him away.
Defeated sigh. Shoulders slumped. Head in hands.
Walk away.
And I do.
Eventually.
Scars remain.
Softer. Still noticeable.
Moments.
Each season is but a moment.
Lord.
I want to see your grace here. Your mercy is ever present. I do not deserve the love this child shows. And yet, most times he freely gives.
I'm stuck Lord. Help. I'm mired in the heavy. Full me with your Holy Spirit.
Tomorrow I mourn. Tomorrow I fast. Let me be filled with gratitude for your sacrifice. My salvation. Our salvation. How do I manage that? Even in my mourning of your passing, I ask for more. I ask you to fill me. To really know this love.
I'm tired. I'm torn. I'm weathered.
You are more. You are enough. You are all I need. Let it be enough.
Thank you. I'm filled with grateful heart
Water. Clean. Brought to our door.
Family. Generous. Unbridled. Giving.
Friends. From out of the blue you handed us together.
Shelter. A gift that keeps on giving.
School. Teachers who honor us. Friends who respect him.
Church. Opportunity to serve you.
Healing. The rough scars slowly smoothing.
Love. Your heart slowly opening ours.
For the wet floors. For they show me that we both have far to go and have come so far.
For the food. Endless Manna. With no gluten of course.
Friends. Who call me out on truth. Who ask about taking care of my self. For providing a means to do so.
