In that place between sleep and wake I reach out for my husband but his side of the bed is cold. Oh… he is away… for two weeks. I feel a little sorry for myself. I stumble out of bed and make a pot of coffee. For the past 32 years I have been served coffee in bed by the man who is currently flying away from me at hundreds of miles an hour. My heart thanks him for his daily kindness and I count my blessings.
I read through some of my blog subscriptions. The coffee at my elbow grows cold as I stare at the screen and take in the news of Pastor Rick Warren and his family’s loss. A deep and profound sadness cuts my heart. I don’t personally know him, yet I know him… for the past thirty years Pastor Rick has been a fellow minister, a mentor from afar, a fellow leader in the greater Church in which I too serve. My children are around the same age as the son he just lost. I grieve for him, one parent trying dismally to help carry another’s awful burden. I pray. Deeply. Sincerely. A broken prayer from a broken heart.
The day moves on and I watch my son play with his son. High above daddy’s head the baby goes and my heart melts as the tiniest one in our family giggles with delight. I say a prayer for this young life and for his daddy and his mommy. And for a child lost.
Later still I am sitting in a prettily decorated room. I watch as a dear friend opens a gift. She is soon to be married and this is a time set aside for the women in her life to shower her with love and support. I think back to that other time when I sat with her on a patio in Africa, sipping tea, watching the sun set and talking about the husband she would one day like to have. That one day is almost here and my heart is overflowing with joy for her. I watch her eyes twinkle and I say a prayer. A joyful thank-you prayer. For a husband found.
This day is waning and as is the lot of a Contemplative, I think.
This is what I think:
Love must be sincere. Be devoted to one another in love. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. – Romans 12: 9,10,12,15
What a day this has been. Rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee.