Seasons of the Soul, Part II

I cannot write a proper epilogue to this post. This will have to do.

When we choose to love, we accept the challenges, the pain, the hurt that will surely come.  We also enjoy the unmeasured heartbeats of pure delight and joy that our loved one brings. It’ all of piece. The hard work of love. Of living.

It’s not that life is a cheat, it’s not that dying dreams should mock us, or that our feeblest attempts to soar are halting and seemingly pointless.  That is just the seeming.  It’s that it is all part of the Eternal. We’re just on this side of the equation, waiting for the One who will call our bets, and clear all our debts. We still wait for the face-to-face that has eluded us in our questions.  One look, and we will know. We will be healed at last.

ghosts have no say-so
as to how they are honored…
the living just guess at it
and do their best

missing someone
like a little death
so we prop up
like ritual cairns
pebbles of preference
stones of stoic testimony
to some one or thing
that marked
our heart
along the way

Godspeed. Rest now.

36 thoughts on “Seasons of the Soul, Part II

  1. Oh no…. I’m so sorry, Joanie. I could really dropkick lame stupid life in the chin sometimes for doing shit like this. Deepest condolences.

  2. Oh Joan, my heart just aches for you. I haven’t been blogging since Mama died so I missed your previous post requesting prayers for your niece. May she rest peacefully in the arms of He who loves her more than life itself. And may that thought bring you peace as well. Grace and peace be with you, Betsy.

  3. I’m really sorry to hear that, Joan. My condolences to you and your family – and know that you are in my prayers.

  4. My condolences, Joan, and my prayers for your and your family.

    This may sound strange to say, but I hope you will appreciate this: I find your faith and your expression of faith comforting, and I thank you for sharing it with us.

    – David Jones

  5. Joan,

    Know that you are in my thoughts.

    Why some get taken prematurely is one of those things I’ve never made sense of, and probably never will, so I won’t try writing about it here.


  6. I’m sorry dear Joan. Prayers and God’s grace upon you and all her friends and family.
    Words fail me. Please know that I…all of us that know you, care.

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