I drove the six hours to Bismarck, North Dakota this week. The landscape was lush and unseasonably green, the summer that we never thought would come is stretching into fall. But an occasional yellow leaf reminds me- the seasons turn, winter always comes, life goes on.
We want life to look like this.
Wide, well marked with easy curves. Yes, there is a horizon but it stretches comfortably in the distance.
Instead the journey of life dips and disappears and our stomach lurches with the rough ride. We hit potholes that threaten our comfort and suspension. The curves come fast and we can find outselves smashed at the side of the road. Alone.
This week, the spirit of my much prayed for and eagerly anticipated sixth grandchild, Teresa Irene, returned to the full presence of her Heavenly Father. I love the image of her holding hands with her grandfather who loved babies but has yet to meet any of his grandchildren. For us left on earth, we still deal with the reality of her lifeless body delivered by a grieving mother into the hands of a distraught father. The hospital has been wonderful, the community outpour of prayers and help has be comforting...
but this grandmother just wants to breathe life into that tiny, perfect body and into this sad and broken family.
Her life on this earth was short and distant and not in our hands.
This tiny bridge is not easily accessible. It's not on a wide path. I'm not even sure of its purpose. But it caught my eye, it spoke to my soul's longing for beauty, it is there. A tiny bridge to nowhere must have a function I don't know. Someone carefully constructed posts and railing and added sturdy metal roofing. They placed it in this quiet spot and they know why.
Ducks paddle on this calm water and find food for their ducklings. Life happens here in the quiet, off the busy road.
Teresa is our bridge- inaccesible to our hands but forever perfect and complete in our hearts. Her brief life reminds us of the brevity of our days and heaven awaiting us- she is our bridge to eternity. But I don't want to leave this little, fragile structure out here in the elements; winter is coming. The ducks will fly and she'll be alone. But this earth is all merely a shell, a structure with a function I don't fully realize. Teresa has shed her fragile body and is rejoicing in timeless heaven where we are already together. I am left to remember her rosebud lips, to hug the sad children and parents, to pray for comfort and... to anticipate life on earth as it continues on, waiting for the renewal of an inevitable spring.
This is beautiful and captures the essence of your sadness so well. Love to you, dear lady. I am so sorry for your tremendous loss.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written, Kathryn. My heart --- and prayers --- go out to you and your family. Blessings . . . ~ BJ
ReplyDeleteKathy, such sweet words ... thank you for sharing and you all are in my prayers!
ReplyDeleteWelcome Home, Sweet Teresa!
Kathy, I am so sorry for your loss. Praying for God's comfort for you and your family during this difficult time.
ReplyDeleteKathy, from one grandma to another my heart is sad for you and all those who love Teresa Irene and miss her so deeply.
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