Susan LaffertyMotionless. I sit. In sunlight. Stilled by loss and grief spilling across screens and down streets. Through personal stories of friends and strangers. Hard and sad.
Bitter wounds. Raw pain rooted deep. Laid bare.
Motionless. I wait. Stilled by the scale of it. What are we to do? Hands rest, palms up.
Eyes lifted to open sky between tall trees.
Wordless cry to the One I trust.
The candle flame moves. Flickers. Casting large shadows on the walls. I sit in the edges of its light.
All the celebrations of last week give way to winter quiet. Time to remember and reflect. Looking towards the future.
In past seasons there was little time for this quiet space. A long one, anyway. The season of raising three young children comes to mind.
Even then, the hurry in my soul needed me to sit. Rest. Looking to the One who knows my days.
In the midst of the move, fears slip in. Without permission. A thin thread of doubt weaves its way through my mind. Second guesses undermine trust.
Trust in the One who leads us.
“Be sober-minded, be alert,” Peter says (1 Peter 5:8). Somedays I’m catching my breath and need this reminder. Front and center.