My heart is broken with the grief in the loss of my sister, Christine, to lung cancer. So, I come to my back porch for solace.
Hummingbirds are swooping, bees are traipsing from flower to flower, chickens are peck-peck pecking, my cat is dozing, birds are splashing in their birdbath, butterflies are dancing. I feel my sister with me here on the porch swing, holding my hand, gently reassuring me that all is well.
Contemplation comes easily with grief if you can get away from the noise. Cliches come to mind, yet I’m savoring each bit of comfort they truly express. It’s like one of those old fashioned hymns that requires a choral master and congregational answer.
They say, “She’s in a better place.” I respond, “Yes she is!”
They say, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I respond, “I feel your empathy and it’s gratefully received.”
They say,” Remember her.” I respond, “We are capturing each and every story together as a family.”
They say, “I’m praying for you.” I respond, “Our soul to soul connection is a virtual embrace.”
They say, “She is healed.” I respond, “Indeed, she is!” Gone is all the anxiety and pain.
They say, “My deep condolences to you.” I respond, “With open arms, I receive your sympathy in this season of sorrow.”
You see what I see. You feel what I feel. In this bone-deep commiseration, we together honor my sister’s life. How blest am I to belong to you, my extended family and friends!
How long has it been since you told your sibling that you love her/him?
Those whom the Lord has ransomed will return that way. They will enter Zion with a happy shout. Unending joy will overwhelm them; grief and suffering will disappear.