Lament Psalm Seven
O God, you’ve allowed death to take him away,
leaving me alone
in the chill dawn of unfinished love.
What could you have been thinking?
Ungiven gifts pile about me.
Unsung songs remain
trapped in my throat.
Unsaid words lie rotting
in my mouth,
and I sit staring down
a lifetime of unlived days,
for love didn’t leave
when death arrived.
God, what will I do
with the unfinished love?
It wells up within me
with nowhere to go,
and I am bursting
with the pain of it.
Come to me, O Comforter,
come to me.
Hold me against the pain
for just awhile
so that I might catch my breath.
Come to me, O Comforter,
and give me peace.
O God, I don’t understand all this.
Give me your peace
that passes understanding.
Give me your grace
that only you can give,
the grace that overflows with peace,
so that I might spend my days
telling all who would hear
that you, O God —
you are the answer.
There is no pain than the unimaginable sorrow that comes to our door in the death of a child. I too, lament with Ann in having lost a precious soul named Lucas.
It was in the month of November I remember the cold hibernating death of my soul when we buried our son.
It is during this frozen season of the year I know the missing and I know the loss most near in the remembering, where my spirit unites in the Divine One who holds me in all my suffering and carries me in all my tears.
Anniversaries come and go, but my love will always remain for Lucas and my loss is always near, lying beneath the surface of living, ready to be tapped in an instant of knowing death.
I too know the unfinished words and unlived days of not having my son on this earth. I too mourn and grieve on those days memories sear my soul.
To all those moms and dads who have had to walk this valley in the missing of our child, I too know the pit of darkness in the day-to-day weighted oppressiveness that blankets our body, souls and spirits when death has stolen our young ones too soon.
I too know the hand of God’s grace, who embraced me in this place of death and whose strength walked with me in the unbearable, in the unknowing, in this unfamiliar space of loss and grief.
It is on those days I cannot, where God holds me and weeps with me, aiding me with His solace of love.
It is on those days my memories know the pained sorrowed living in the death of a child, my God remembers too, and He is right with me in it.
There is no place where we walk where our God is not right here with us in it.
There is no suffering, no anguish, no space where His grace is not given, for His grace abides in those moments, hours and days where we are unable.