Clinging To The Cross
Soft pinks and lavenders filled the quietness of the evening sky.
The shushed rustle of birds drifted to the silence of night.
The full moon rose like unto a small pearl so gentle; so soft.
Below stood I beside my wife’s freshly dug grave
and the statue of a woman clinging to the cross.
I pondered our days in which we both labored under the sun.
I recall all the blessings in our life that the Lord God had done.
I remembered our trials; I recalled our victories and their cost.
Yet what I remember the most is how through it all,
my wife Leah forever in faith clinging to the cross.
Now that she is gone and I this little man feel so alone.
I think; I pray and I recall how God has always made the way.
now I too know what I must do and that is like Leah…
I am to cling to the cross each and every day.
J. Allen Wilson © 9/13/2008
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(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :)
Continued prayers for you too! :) Prayed for you today at church, as a matter of fact! :)
Here is a letter I wrote to myself the night my mother was passing. I have always been told that joy shared is joy doubled, and sorrow shared is sorrow halved. Peace be with you friend.
In spite of our faith, nothing about living fully prepares us for watching someone we love die. The whole process is exhausting, mentally and physically, and seems to move in slow motion. Imagine being given a dying patient to care for, with no training and no education. Now imagine that this is someone you dearly love, that you are already exhausted, and that you are still trying to come to terms with the suddenness of death. All a bit overwhelming, let me say, and I am fully grounded in my faith and the reality of life after death.
There have been incredibly heartbreaking moments; when I move Mom's body and her face silently grimaces in pain; the panic in that same face when her lungs fill with fluid, and she can't get enough air, and the pain meds are either too little or too late; the horror of having to inject my delicate, fragile mother with morphine; the realization that I will never again hear her speak to me, or say my name. And then, there are the precious beautiful moments; when she tries to open her eyes when she hears my voice; when she smiles when I tell her that I love her and kiss her on the forehead; when she seems to quietly sigh and the peace that overtakes her face when I sing to her, read to her, or pray aloud for her.
Death is as much a part of living as birth is. And yet, it never ceases to surprise us, anger us, disappoint us, or break our hearts. At this moment, it feels as though she has one foot in this world, and one foot in the next. I can sense the spirit making the transition, growing less and less attached to the present world, and beginning to move on to the heavenly realm. It is an experience like nothing I've ever imagined.
The world outside these walls goes on without missing a beat. It seems strange, yet I know it to be true. The world takes little notice that my life will never be the same again. It happens somewhere every moment of every day, and yet life goes on. "As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be; world without end, Amen, Amen."
Yet through it all, I know that God is with me. I know that He controls the day and the hour, that He numbers the hairs on my mother's head, and that He is waiting with open arms to welcome her HOME. I know that He has a plan for each one of us, and that while this heart disease was never a part of His plan, bringing her home again is and always has been. I miss her already, and sense that she is just beyond my reach. Yet I know that when this is over, there will still be life to be lived. There will be mountains to hike, music to embrace, and sunsets to awe over. I will be stronger, wiser, more compassionate, and more loving. I will embrace my life; cherish every moment of it, grateful for the love that my mother brought to my life, and newly enlightened to the fragility of it all. I will never be the same again.
"Were life not precious, grief not deep
Grace would not be half so sweet.”
LeRoy
Beautful poem and picture. We should ALL cling to the cross and never let go no matter what trials come upon us. My friend, I will continue to pray for you that God will ease your pain and help you through the most painful time of your life. AuthorDen is grieving with you, and praying. God bless.
Many blessings,
~Linda
You are showing strength and courage posting here in the Den. I wish you well during this time of extreme grief and sorrow, my friend.
Stay well and strong, Stuart (Australia)
Sad write but has beauty within, Leah depended on the Lord, and so shall you, Take care, Blessing's to you always, valerie
(((HUGS))) love and prayer, Karla.