Friday, November 05, 2010
cold night-lots of wind and waves here on the lake-so noisy it woke me up!
I have been walking in a deeper valley this week. I know this valley of sorrow and know some of the trails that I take and each time they bring that fresh smell of loss. I also know how to walk back to life again and I am on the uphill climb to the light and air.
That deep place of the loss is so hard, so sad. I am glad I don't live there anylonger. Just so helpless, so unchanged. The story is the same. The ending is the same, it is a finished painting of what happened.
I took this picture up in the Rockies this last trip and loved the aspens. By now I am sure all the leaves will have fallen. There will be a barrenness to all the branches-but the hope is in the spring that will come after the long and cold winter.
My hope is in that final spring-the final place I will be for all times. For now, the need to keep with the changes of the heart, my dear heart that moves sometimes slowly through the season of grief. I don't know if it will ever feel like a right fit. I know many now around me who journey their own land of loss. I am glad we see one another across the borders of that sorrow to wave and shout encouraging words and smiles. That tenderness of a shared burden makes one's own burden lighter. If you listen hard and close your eyes--you will hear the breeze blowing through these aspen leaves and they are clapping--and making sweet noise, rejoicing at the last of their brilliant glory!