I knit a tiny pair of socks yesterday.
Red, with a white ribbon.
Perfect for Christmas.
Therapy knitting.
I hadn't been able to knit anything before yesterday... before I knew that Sammy's heart had finally stopped. Anything prior to that was just too hopeful, and I hadn't the heart. But good-bye knitting is easier than hopeful knitting.
The socks were so tiny, and yet, they were so enormous compared to the wee tiny boy that Sammy was.
And so, these tiny socks will be tucked away, as will my hopeful feelings... for I say good-bye to my tiny boy, but I know that it is not final. I will hold him one day.
Oh God, grant me patience in waiting for that day.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Hiding Place
The sunshine was astonishing. The breeze was perfect. The day was as lovely as could be.
The happy sound of my children playing outside was interrupted by a heart-wrenching cry... I ran to the window to see Hannah, lying crumpled and bloody, on the sidewalk. I bolted for the door, not stopping for my shoes. I ran across the grass to where she lay. Gathering her up in my arms, I brought her into the safety of our home.
As tenderly as I could, I cleaned her scraped and bleeding knees. A little ointment and plenty of bandaids helped, but thru her sniffles, she just asked for a cuddle. She just wanted to be held.
Everything within me wanted to love the hurt away. I held her as tightly as I could and I didn't let go until she was calm.
-----------------
There are moments in life that strike with extreme clarity... moments that are bigger than oneself... moments when it is undeniable that Someone is trying desperately to communicate with us, if we would but listen to that still, small voice...
As I held Hannah, I knew that I myself was being held. When inside, I felt like I was a crumpled mess, I knew I was being held by Someone much bigger than I... Someone who was able to contain all the sorrow and pain... Someone who was not afraid of my tears... Someone who just wanted to love the hurt away. I sat there holding Hannah, knowing that I, too, was being held.
----------------
The happy sound of my children playing outside was interrupted by a heart-wrenching cry... I ran to the window to see Hannah, lying crumpled and bloody, on the sidewalk. I bolted for the door, not stopping for my shoes. I ran across the grass to where she lay. Gathering her up in my arms, I brought her into the safety of our home.
As tenderly as I could, I cleaned her scraped and bleeding knees. A little ointment and plenty of bandaids helped, but thru her sniffles, she just asked for a cuddle. She just wanted to be held.
Everything within me wanted to love the hurt away. I held her as tightly as I could and I didn't let go until she was calm.
-----------------
There are moments in life that strike with extreme clarity... moments that are bigger than oneself... moments when it is undeniable that Someone is trying desperately to communicate with us, if we would but listen to that still, small voice...
As I held Hannah, I knew that I myself was being held. When inside, I felt like I was a crumpled mess, I knew I was being held by Someone much bigger than I... Someone who was able to contain all the sorrow and pain... Someone who was not afraid of my tears... Someone who just wanted to love the hurt away. I sat there holding Hannah, knowing that I, too, was being held.
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Please take a moment to listen to Hiding Place.
Psalm 32:7
You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
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