Silence

Nineteen months ago my world stopped moving.  I’m Suspended.  Now orbiting the earth but with little visibility to it’s meaning. Sitting on my apartment deck, 100 yards from the Atlantic, the earth seems stable. Waves lap the sand in rhythm like they have since He set the boundaries of the deep.  The tide ebbs and flows as sure as the sun rises each day. Faithfully. 

How different God’s world is than mine.  I can’t comprehend it.  Oh, I am marching on with vigor, thrashing and grasping for meaning each day.  And I  can feel  the scar tissue forming over my wounded soul.  I see and hear the questions of others as they face similar wounding by this world’s shocking reality.        But I’ve little to offer but a prayer.  I hope that is enough.  Its all I can muster. 

This morning’s question dripping from the roof of my mind…Is Jean watching me? Glad I didn’t get hit by a car on my bike early this morning. Sad Anna didn’t get to run her marathon today because of the ankle, but Oh so proud? Is she rejoicing with (or persuading)  the Angel that Jesse is going to get his dream Boise job? … that Bo and Prairie get Uncle Jesse to play with?  Is she smiling at Fred’s fatherly smile. Rejoicing in Momma Amy’s tender love for her children?   Is she silently waiting, sleeping away her memories of pain on this side of heaven? Does it even matter? I just don’t know. 

The stable sure God of the Atlantic Ocean must know. He must. And is content to  

lap the sand in silence. Faithfully.