Last night I went to bed with tears for Amy, in her relentless, wearying wrestle with leukemia. And this morning I wake with tears for Elise, Little One flying Home. Lord, hear my cry. Hear me whispering their names?
And He whispers back, “Yes, Child, come close. Whisper their names again. I too know their names, love them. Here. See? They are written, etched deep, on the palm of my hand. Let’s keep whispering their names together. And rest, Child: All is well. I walk with them. And will never, ever leave their side. “
And then I rest, smile through the tears, and remember….
Like cheering crowds, buckets of large-eyed sunflowers and slender gladiolas gathered at the end of the Mennonite laneways as we drive past. Why today? Though unaware of the occasion, we follow their parade route, my smiles acknowledging the feting stems of vermilion and magenta. For a tip of a dollar or two a bunch of the colorful celebrants would come with you. Who could resist?
We slow to stop at the farm just before the bend, across from the white clapboard meeting house. A young girl, bare feet showing from under the folds of her indigo dress, stands on the back stoop. She nods my way as she carefully fits a powder-blue bonnet over her crowning bun, tying the strings under her neck.
Dropping my quarters into the stone-weighted margarine container, I offer my invitation to two blushing pink gladiolas and a shy lavender. And they come.
On our daytrip to the woods and water, to the picnic stretched out under the draping willows, for the walk down through the shadowy trails past the outcroppings of rock, they come too, slender stems bursting in celebratory bloom. We spend the day together, three gladiolas and I.
And then I know why today; why the celebration:
You, Lord, have given this moment. It is a gift to rejoice over, and in, and through.
It is now and now is the time to be glad.
“This is the day the LORD has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
Lord, let the heavens be glad. And yes, us too. Regardless. For You have made all things, now, well. Today, now, is enough…To celebrate the gift of even this moment.
Originally posted August, 2006
