Contrast of Worlds
In attempting to comfort my exhausted grieving brain, I allow myself to take a "visual vacation" by perusing my new Southern Living magazine—with its pictures of delicate flowers so appealing, happy people, scenes alluring, pleasant, conventional, and sweet...I was so enjoying the beautiful pictures revealing God's lovely world in this issue of "Charleston's Romantic Charm"...
...But my poor traumatized brain cannot let go. Like an olympic skating champion sliding around his opponent at the last minute, my traumatized right brain suddenly overrides my left brain, replacing these pictures of God's beautiful world with abrupt, raw, intrusive images of the stark, ugly, abhorrent world of death I've been thrown into with the loss of my baby girl.
Tears fall. The contrast is too great.
The magazine's delightfully displayed normal scenes of God's world that once accurately reflected the joy of my heretofore normal world are instantaneously contrasted with my world now, ugly and grey...horrid, repugnant, loathsome, and repulsive.
So, to help my further-traumatized brain, I write these words...
Contrast of Worlds
Beautiful world...roses cascading down...
My world is ugly...death throws me aground.
Exquisitely flowering azaleas...
While I'm floundering, helpless, disabled...
What's happened? We're all a part of God's world...
Some are happy...
Others to hell are hurled!
What happened to my life...once joyful,
Now looking for a quarrel,
my heart's agitated, full of unrest...
easily aggravated, sad, distressed.
Beautiful life--who am I becoming?
Her death transmutes...I'm volcano, rumbling...
Once happy, glowing eyes...to
eyes now haunted,
now, by death...taunted.
How do I deal with the repugnant mess?
I turn to God's Word; my pain I confess...
There I find answers to my dark distress...
If I go up to the heavens,
You are there;
if I make my bed in the
depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the
if I settle on the far side of
even there Your hand will
Your right hand will hold
If I say, "Surely the darkness
will hide me
and the light become night
even the darkness will not be
dark to You;
the night will shine like the
for darkness is as light to
Give me Your vision, my child's death to see
through the vast prism of eternity
where darkness becomes light, night shines like day,
night reveals Light, in darkness, show the way...
"I'm in the dearth of death's darkness!"
(Then) You say,
"I am your Light... despite darkness rife...
In death's dark night of the soul..."
"Child, I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life...
Death's dark night pales in the Light of My Way.
Cling to Me by faith; I'll light up your way..."
With God's healing balm caressing my ravaged heart, with promises that no matter how dark the way, He will walk with me. For me right now, in this moment, that is enough - He soothes my heart; He lights my day.