A Poem for Christy



When you lose a first born you loved
You yourself feel quite lost
You speak peace to your sorrowing soul
But silently count the cost.

You lose your bearings, your compass
You ask where was his compassion
You rationalize some answers,
And quiet yourself…after a fashion.

Life, it seems, is what happens
While making other plans,
Death the rudest of wake-up calls
Can shock like nothing else can.

There are no pieces to pick up
No peace about what has gone wrong
There is no getting over it,
‘Get beyond it’ is your song.

Lewis was right when he said
The depth of your grief just shows
How very much you loved her
As God alone truly knows

Some hymns no longer ring true,
That blithely say ‘no harm will befall
Those who truly love the Lord
And are fully pursuing his call’.

Warm words turn into cold comfort
When there is truly nothing you can say
That will make everything better
Or make the pain go away.

Some people say Job was a whiner,
That he never should have complained
But the Psalmists beg to differ,
They lament again and again.

There’s some solace in knowing that Jesus
Wept at the grave of a friend,
He said that mourners are blessed
If not now… with comfort then.

It’s not time that heals all wounds,
In fact, they all leave scars,
Like the ones in the nail-pierced hands
Of the Man beyond the stars.

I trust that some day things will be better
That someday she will arise,
And I will go and embrace her,
And see the light in her eyes.

For Jesus said ‘talitha cumi’
And the dead girl was quickened to life,
I trust he will say that to our Christy,
And joy will replace my strife.

9-14-17— Christy’s 38th birthday


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