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this flame

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this flame

What do we do when the loss is so great?

When it is felt so keenly?

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When there is nothing we can do, nothing we can say to fill that void?

I rage and cry. I say no to this event. It cannot be.

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I stumble my way through a prayer.

I try to remember.

I try not to make the mistake of despair.

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I look to others. There are those who do not hesitate, but wade right in, no matter the cost in tears, discomfort, time. I try to follow. My hesitation is great.

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There are those who fight to be grateful. It reminds me to ask for help to see.

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There are those light a candle in the dark. And keep lighting. One for every year of a life.

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A simple thing: paper, stones, flame. Each one like the placing of one more prayer, another heart lit through with love.

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And this great mystery of grace: the trees are still bare, the air is still cold. We are still in the dark.

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And yet, through our tears, we can see that it is not the same.

5 Comments

  1. melany

    Your words are beautiful. It’s a tough time.

  2. i’ve started and stopped a blog half a dozen times. about loss. but i cannot.seem.to.type.
    thank you for typing…

  3. kat

    i don’t know what this post is about exactly but i’m thinking about you.  i sometimes hate that life can be so ugly and beautiful all at once.  beautiful post.

  4. god, sarabeth, i love this so much. i want to print it out and tape it up on my walls.

3 Trackbacks

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