Monday, November 19, 2012

At the Back

I stand at the back, and know he is not there.
I have wondered, in this place of beauty, this haven , why I felt so unsettled.
He is not there. That knowledge settles into the crevices.
The house where my son's laughter was imbedded in the walls is two blocks over. The room where he slept. The stairs tromped by his feet. This in front of me, is where he roamed the halls for school.
And here I am, standing at the back with this knowing.
Aren't I really standing on the other side?
When I stand at the back, I simply have a different perspective.
Up front I held my living, breathing son in my arms.
Here, on the other side, I no longer hold him.
From this perspective, I recognize God's presence in the midst of all that heart-rending.
At the back, I recognize Him.
My arms may be empty, yet my heart is full.
My son is not there.
But He is.
God is there.
He is even here now, with me, as I stand at the back.
He is the Comfort in this ache.
When I stand at the back.

1 comment:

  1. Perfectly conveyed, thank you for expressing this so well.