Thursday, April 26, 2012

As Those Who Have No Hope

Where to start.

With the wife of 50 years saying so long to those big gentle hands; one laying perfectly on top of the other?  Her daughters stand lingering; touching one last time, knowing they are separated only for awhile.

With the 24 year old who can no longer move or talk,  his body so weak and consumed with this disease?  He's ready to go on.  His momma begging, pleading for him to stay.  My guess is that he pretty much always did what his momma wanted, even if he didn't want to.  My guess is he is ready to go and needs her to tell him it is ok.  My heart hurts for her.  Could I do that?  Tell my boy it's ok to go?  That I'll see him soon?  Maybe she doesn't know she could see him again?

With the young daughter who watched her dad live a life that cut his time way too short?  She will grow up without her daddy.  She will probably make better choices for her own life because she will always remember this pain.

With the girl in the back seat crying black all over her pillow case, finally falling asleep exhausted?  She held babies for four days.  Babies who didn't belong to her.  She barely made it to the car so others she had showered with grace would be none the wiser to the pain so deep.  How I desperately want to take that pain from the pit of her being and the ache from the inside of her elbows and carry it as my own.  Relieve her for just a little bit.  It's not mine to carry - it is hers.  If I took it, I would be robbing her of strength that will be needed for future.  Robbing her of a confidence that God does hear.  A God of hope.

With the mommy who waited for 18 years to bring breath into this world, but held breathless instead?  I watched as she lovingly wiped his little face and cried.  Held his little feet with the fourth toe on his right foot bending under the third.  So, so precious.  Everything in me wanted to wrap this perfect stranger up in my arms and hold her grief.  I couldn't keep from touching her, hoping it could bring a little comfort.

Forty eight hours of heartache.
Mixed with a little joy.

Heartache for those who have no hope.

Joy for those who know this is just for a time.

One has a life time of beautiful memories of being married to her best friend and lover.  They won't be apart long.  She has hope.

One continues the vigil over her son in a town of strangers.  Not yet willing to let him go because she isn't sure exactly what that means.  Praying for her heart to know before she gets in the car without her boy and heads on home. Thankful that Michael is there with the answers for her.  Oh, please let her know.

One no longer has an earthly daddy, but is in a place where people will show her she has a heavenly Father.

One knows God has a plan and trusts that plan, but there are days that are just. so. hard.  Jesus, be the strength of her heart and her portion forever.

One has cold photos instead of warm body, but at least it is something to help her remember the too few hours she held and loved.  Though her heart is breaking, I still saw joy of knowing what the future holds.  Jesus, comfort her sweet heart.

Thank You, Father, that You are Husband.  You are Comforter.  You are Father to the fatherless.  You can handle all of this when sometimes it gets a little hard to carry on our own.  And Lord . . . please, please, please give a hope to the hearts who have no hope.


2 thoughts:

asnipofgoodness said...

Beautiful, as always, HOPE is such a small word with such a BIG meaning. Thank you JESUS, for the hope we have found in you!

Joannah Labrador said...

My Hope is in Him. I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning without Him. Michael was my everything. I didn't think it was possible to live without him. I don't know how people who don't know the Lord - really know Him - do it.