Loss

“It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.”
― John Steinbeck

(blooming dogwoods / Julie Cook / 2016)

Friday we lost a member or our ever shrinking family..
My 92 year old father-n-law.

Despite his advanced years, his dependence on a walker, he had gotten himself up and dressed as usual… as he readied to head to work…
To the business he started single handedly 70 years ago located in a small west Georgia town.

It was a massive heart attack.

He was a widower, a proud World War II Veteran, living indepentalty alone…
Yet he got dressed each and every morning, complete with dress shirt and tie, waiting for a grandson to pick him up in order to be taken to his beloved store.

Despite the years of alcoholism, abuse, misfortune, and heartache…there had been a reconciliation within this past year…a healing…for which I am most thankful…especially for my husband.

Families are funny that way.

There will be difficult days ahead for his grown children and grown grandchildren… each who will struggle in their own ways with the memories of the shifting shadows of childhoods that were less than ideal.
With each one piecing back together the ebbing and flowing of a shattered past.

I’ll be in and out over the next couple of days, but hope to be back soon…

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
John 14:1-4

“Crown Him with many crowns”

Remember the sufferings of Christ, the storms that were weathered… the crown that came from those sufferings which gave new radiance to the faith… All saints give testimony to the truth that without real effort, no one ever wins the crown.
Thomas Becket

(a blooming dogwood / Julie Cook / 2014)

Dogwoods blooming turn skyward,
tinged by the rust of nails.
A thousand tiny crowns lifting to the Heavens
While the echoes of sorrow linger in the wind

Three hours, three days, three cackles of the cock
The lamb is lead to slaughter
A noose tightens as a sponge offers up bitter gall
Life and death begin a precarious slow dance
As every soul hangs in the balance between loss and hope

Arms extend upward bearing fingers stiff with pain as a head falls forward
Blood and water flow into one when the spear pierces the innocent
Assent and decent turn upside down
Limbs now frozen in place while a fierce battle rages
The tomb is sealed as day becomes night

Only mystery remains of the terrible war.
Blinding light reflects terror in bloodshot eyes
Fear lingers in the face of the defeated
As the earth shifts, a heel crushes the head of the snake
Chains fall away along with the discarded shroud
When a single pierced hand finally lifts a golden crown

The woods are waking up!

Look at the trees, look at the birds, look at the clouds, look at the stars… and if you have eyes you will be able to see that the whole existence is joyful. Everything is simply happy. Trees are happy for no reason; they are not going to become prime ministers or presidents and they are not going to become rich and they will never have any bank balance. Look at the flowers – for no reason. It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are.
Osho

Do you hear it?
Can you smell it?
The wind, that March wind of the roaring lion–
The wind which sweeps over the landscape sending all things scattering to and fro.
The air, breathe deeply for it is no longer cold– that type of cold which stings ones nose and throat- Happily there is warmth to the breath of this March lion.
Can’t you smell that sweet warm wind?

Do you hear them?
There is a symphony serenading the swamps and creeks.
The multitude of tree frogs have summoned their members of this annual choir.
The ground has warmed just enough, reminding those who have been dormant this winter, to rise and shine, it’s time to find that perfect mate.

Other worldly mushroom shaped buds line up on the tips of limbs and twigs, waiting to explode.
Such tiny buds not only signal the renewal of nature, but of our hearts and souls as well–for these are the buds of the wild dogwood.
The South knows that Spring has officially arrived by the blooming of these mystical trees.
The blooming of the dogwood is Nature raising her banners, alerting us all to the celebration of Easter.

Warming weather signals the internal mystery for the annual sloughing off of antlers, which in turn provides nutrients to smaller animals. This warming also sends the ground beneath the feet of all teaming with activity. Beware of roaming the newly cool green grass with feet bare for the South’s most hardy nemesis, the dreaded fire ant is on the move.

Good morning sleepy heads for behold, the Advent of Spring is here!

God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars.
~Author unknown, commonly attributed to Martin Luther