|Danny, age 5; me, age 16 months|
Alone. Hollow. Broken beyond repair. This is how my friend feels, Lord, since she said goodbye to her dear one. When strangers eased his body into the ground and covered it with earth, her heart sunk with him. She knew her life would never be the same.
She wonders if she’ll have the strength to face another sunrise. Her soul is all winter, with no hope or desire for spring. How can birds build nests and tulips dance when her love lies buried? The enemy has convinced her that she’s forgotten how to sing.
Yet You do not forget my friend, Your child. In the stillness of the night, when she reaches for phantom arms, You hold her. When morning reminds her that she must walk through another day without her loved one, You help her breathe. After the mailbox is empty of cards and the phone is silent, You sit with her, just being. Just loving.
Now more than ever, she needs Your friendship. She’s known You as Lord, Master, and Savior. But today she craves companionship to sweeten her bitter cup. And You are the only One whose sweet water can fill her emptiness.
Reveal to her new reasons to keep living,
and new seasons of fruitfulness.
Send her companions that You’ve chosen, not to take her loved one’s place, but to color in the grey spots with fresh hues of gladness. Soft shades at first, as she opens the prison door of pain, and allows herself a glimpse of light, then brighter and bolder colors as she dares to step outside the door and bask in Your affection.You alone can turn her sorrow into joy, in ways none of us can imagine. Do what You do best, dear Lord: redeem this death and from it birth abundant life.
In Jesus’ Name, so be it.
References to Scripture: Isaiah 38:14; II Corinthians 1:3-4; Ephesians 2:14; John 14:27; Job 35:10; John 16:20: I Thessalonians 4:13-14; Revelation 21:4-5
I love you, my friend,