Easter Hope

Grace and peace on this Easter afternoon:

I don't know why I mourned so deeply, not only my three Dear Little Ones today, but also my parents -- gone so long -- and so very much of myself which was lost with them all. Somewhere deep within, Jesus still seems deeply in the grave, despite the “Halleluiahs!” and shouts of “Christ is risen!” which surround.

So many years on grief's journey now, I doubt that anyone noticed when I attended Church or when I proclaimed the Resurrection in the worship service I led for our psychiatric inpatients, (it was a wonderful service), how very sad I am, how deeply my heart grieves, and how badly I need the victory over suffering and death to be made real in my own life. All I can do, in Resurrection hope, is bring my suffering and grief, sorrow and pain and loss to Jesus—dead and buried in the grave and pray for strength and willingness to linger there with him in whatever hope, he dying, found to give himself over to the only One who could have saved him but allowed him to die. Somehow from this horror, hope was born and new life and love were made real in the lives of women and men so long ago. How I yearn for the Resurrection to be made real in my life.

Looking for words of hope and encouragement, I came to a favorite blog writer of mine, the Velveteen Rabbi, and found a link to the lovely and hopeful collection of poems on miscarriage, Through. Longing for some Word of God’s victory in my heart on this day, I found it here in the tradition of Judaism: http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback_book/through/6133670. The download is free. If you find it of value in your griefs journey, I commend it to you.

Wishing all gentle days.
Ol’Hound