Photo by Lucas George Wendt on Unsplash
Life leaves its mark on everyone:
a bruise, a scrape, a scar.
But none of these define us.
There is more to who we are.
We cannot alter circumstance;
God only holds that power.
We cannot stop or start the rain
that falls on every flower.
It is not ours to shift the winds
of fortune, foul or fair.
Nor can we pick the troubles
we find easiest to bear.
I was a shooting star, my mother said,
a force as bright and bold as sun and sea.
Mom’s heart claimed me with joy that never fled––
her lightning bolt of untamed energy.
Because of Christ, we know a love
that fills the earth and sky–
a selfless and redeeming love
the world cannot deny.
Because of Him, what’s wrong on earth
will, one day, be made right.
His path is ours to understand:
the Way, the Truth, the Light.
When everything is said and done,
it all comes down to cheese.
Will you take it? Can you leave it?
Does it bring you to your knees?
I know it’s true, of course – quite real;
yet somehow, I can’t help but feel
that nothing else is real if you are gone.
Art by Simon Dewey
We hear at times a distant voice,
distilled upon the heart:
“I have a work for you, my child,
a masterwork of art.”
I’m well aware that you’re not here,
a little too aware, I fear;
and yet, neither are you quite gone,
despite the truth that you’ve passed on.
They didn’t dig you up, only my feelings,
stilled ones that slept with you under the ground.
Deep wounds that went unnoticed by their absence,
well-buried until anguish lost was found.
