I am better able to face the morning than I was in the first days and weeks after Dominic’s death. I am more adept at laying aside the overwhelming sorrow and focusing on what needs to be done. I can flash a smile, make small talk, act “normal” and participate in daily activities.
But there are still days….
Days when I cannot think of anything but the fact that he’s gone. Moments when sadness invades my heart and fills my soul. Hours when I just want to find a way to forget that every tomorrow will include the absence of Dominic’s presence and the fullness of joy I once knew before my world included burying a child.
And on those days and in those moments, a quiet word of encouragement can send a piercing ray of hope like a silver light into my heart. A smile, a nod, a hug or a note can be the thread I hold onto as I struggle to pull myself up from the depths of despair.
I’m not the only one walking around with wounds. I am not alone in the darkness of pain and heartbreak.
Jesus came to offer hope to the hopeless. To lift up the downtrodden. To free the captives and open the eyes of the blind:
The Spirit of the Almighty Lord is with me
because the Lord has anointed me
to deliver good news to humble people.
He has sent me
to heal those who are brokenhearted,
to announce that captives will be set free
and prisoners will be released.
Isaiah 61:1-2 GW
Our Savior walked tenderly among us and did not crush even the most wounded:
“A broken reed He will not break [off]
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish [He will not harm those who are weak and suffering];
He will faithfully bring forth justice.”
Isaiah 42:3 AMP
As we move toward the celebration of life over death, victory over defeat, hope over despair, may each of us be a beacon of light to someone walking in darkness.
May our hands reach out to help, our lips speak mercy and grace and may our hearts be so full of love that it spills out onto everyone we meet.
Some of us tend to do away with things that are slightly damaged….When we dismiss people out of hand because of their apparent woundedness, we stunt their lives by ignoring their gifts, which are often buried in their wounds.
We all are bruised reeds, whether our bruises are visible or not. The compassionate life is the life in which we believe that strength is hidden in weakness and that true community is a fellowship of the weak.
– Henri J. M. Nouwen