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Thoughts from a wave of grief

 You’d think by now, I would see the wave coming, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and shut myself up within its wall of water until it subsided.

But no- it rises up inside my quiet, lonely room here late at night as warm memories collide with cold reality. 

And I feel it’s salt stinging in my eyes,

Hear my voice wailing within its roar,

Drown- almost- in its depths.

8 months and two weeks and 4 days have parted me from my anchor.

Like Peter, sinking, I cry to the Master of the Waves to rescue me. 

And just like last time, and all the times before and all the times to come, He does just that.

And I weep on His shoulder and I thank him but I also shout my painful cries:

“ Why did my anchor have to be taken?” “What do I do now?” 

And He lifts me into a safe vessel and as it carries me away from that dreadful wave, He says,

“Rest now and wait. You are loved. You are seen. You are safe.”

And it is not quite what I wanted Him to say but He is Who I need so I listen.

And I am soon asleep.




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