Shelter
by Sandra McCracken
In the arms of a good Father
You can go to the deep water
Where the questions, we have left unspoken
Come out in the open
We will find shelter here
So I lay down, what I cannot hold in my hands
Every sorrow and hope spinning out of control
And here I find sweet resolution comes in letting go
And we will find shelter here
When I look back I can see,
And when I am old I'll remember these things
Like a mountain of stone
And the longing that makes me believe...
There is a tree by the blue river
Where the shade stretches wide over
In this breaking we are hand and glove
We will find shelter here.
by Sandra McCracken
In the arms of a good Father
You can go to the deep water
Where the questions, we have left unspoken
Come out in the open
We will find shelter here
So I lay down, what I cannot hold in my hands
Every sorrow and hope spinning out of control
And here I find sweet resolution comes in letting go
And we will find shelter here
When I look back I can see,
And when I am old I'll remember these things
Like a mountain of stone
And the longing that makes me believe...
There is a tree by the blue river
Where the shade stretches wide over
In this breaking we are hand and glove
We will find shelter here.
I still find myself resistant to label the time that has past: Eight years (cringe!).
I would rather not think about it.
More life lived without him...beautiful (and mostly joyful) living too.
I am grateful for the sheltering and softening of my heart and spirit as life moves forward without my brother.
As this 'season of sorrow' approached, I wondered how or if it would feel different.
This year, April will be marked with a beautiful gift, our baby.
This season has been different. I am different. Changed by grief and love and life but more by time's passing than the hope and joy on our very near horizon.
I love this song, Shelter, because it captures my feelings and thoughts on grief in my eighth sorrowful season. I do find a sort of 'sweet resolution' in having brought my questions, anger, brokenness into the Open and letting go. Being able to let go into the arms of a good and faithful Father. I lay down what I cannot hold, what I cannot understand, and stop trying to make sense of it or re-negotiate it in my heart and mind. Peace in pain. I get it.
As I thought about this place I'm in, I had the simple realization that this is the way grief should (eventually) move. This is the healthy progression of grief that has been worked through and healed up as much as it can be in this life.
Yet I know the passing of time is not a guarantee of healing. I've seen it do the opposite. The deep waters of loss are adept at drowning us. Drowning us in bitterness, anger, entitlement, martyrdom, false spirituality, guilt, regret, an inauthentic life or any number of things. In the end, the brokenness does not heal. It gets infected. So it for this reason, I feel humbled and grateful for the shelter and the One who has sheltered me.
So... Of course, I miss my brother today. But I also looked through pictures of us and laughed a few belly-laughs remembering good times together. I played air band and made cookies with my son. Sat quietly and soaked up the sunshine. Took a nap. Ate too many of those cookies we made. And most of all, let my humbled heart dwell on God's grace that often feels disguised in grief.
