Susan LaffertyDeath is the deep shadow.
Chasm of uninvited separation. Abrupt change. And tangible loss.
I miss Mom’s voice. Her hugs. Her laugh. And her interest in every little detail. Her focus on what is true and good. Her enthusiasm for learning and growing. Her love for God, His Word. And her example in faithful prayer.
This week would have been her 93rd birthday on earth.
Emptied.
Called to have the same attitude as Christ.
Yet this earthen vessel still reveals trace amounts. Vestiges of pride and selfish ambition. Clutter.
And I learn my emptied is not a one-time thing.
But daily.
The paved path I walk most mornings is shifting.
Lifted. Moved. Broken.
By earthquake, flood, or foot traffic?
No. Roots of nearby trees travel underneath. Moving asphalt. Breaking through brick and stone.
Revealing their power and hold. Eventually breaking through from underneath the surface. Disrupting my steps.
