I have enjoyed writing poetry since childhood and I am hoping to find a wider audience on my blog, sharing the hope that I have and connecting with others.
Tonight I finally accepted that Victoria wasn’t going to go back to zero Covid cases in the foreseeable future. It was such a blow – we worked so hard for it in 2020 and the start of 2021. If not for those months of respite when we could almost return to life without worry of Covid, I would have wondered if it were in vain.
Today the Premier stated that case numbers, in fact, would surely increase. Not even the optimist within me could make that go away. I felt the strain already this week – in the midst of our 6th lockdown, and only halfway through as declared today, even the children are increasingly more gloomy, despite their ability to lose themselves in imaginative play. When everyone had gone to bed and I found myself in the quiet at 10.30pm I should have felt elated – silence is hard to come by thesedays. Yet, I wanted company in the room – I just didn’t want to have process anyone else’s issues. I wanted space for my own thoughts. How difficult it is to process them in this season of my life.
Thinking about some other events this past week, I am able to finally step back from it all. My father experienced a number of miracles which resulted in him being able to recover at home instead of being stuck in hospital for weeks, wondering if he would make it out to see us all again. It seems as though the rollercoaster has finally returned to the ground. It will be a challenging road ahead, but I am so grateful that he is here to tell his story. One day I hope to have permission to write it in full – it would help so many people.
I watched the news of Kabul closely – feeling as though any lockdown would be better than permanent hiding. It was hard to make sense of how some got rescued but many didn’t. Tonight, I listened to a beautiful song sung by Nicole Mullins which made me cry by the time I was a few minutes in . I was so grateful to the kind friend who sent it to me in the moments when I felt so downcast. It was as if God had tapped her on the shoulder to send it to me, so that I would know the truth.
It is very easy to feel like a statistic thesedays. You have either had Covid or not had Covid. You have either recovered, are recovering or sadly, you didn’t make it. Life is more than that. Life is precious and unique for each individual. We didn’t lose that in 2020. God didn’t stop noticing us when our world changed forever. He has felt every pain that we have and come alongside us.
Tonight I was reminded afresh, that God sees me (and you!). I have no less purpose than I had before. I still have access to that same power that raised up Jesus, through knowing and following Him. I’m not defeated or less of a person because I am in a tough season.
It is so important that we reach out and encourage others in these times. That timely word or song or gift on the doorstep will disarm and keep those channels of communication open. We mustn’t shut down. This is a time to embrace the vulnerable in each other and help each other stay strong.
I’ve come to the end of my strength; Will, nor circumstance enough- My best not amounting to anything much; I’m doing it really tough. I tell myself that, one day “this” Or one day, maybe, “that”; But I keep falling on the floor Where once, I calmly sat. And he’s not here- he’s in pain- in there- The one who made me calm; Everything is not alright, Causing great alarm. I’ve had faith, and faith some more- I know there’s greater good; But right now I just need to cry; Never mind what I “should”. Knowing the weakness of one so strong, Has shaken me to the core; Sitting up in the early hours wheezing; I could take no more. Not even the primary care giver- Just one who cares for so many; I felt guilty making little complaints, And felt I shouldn’t have any. The last time that I saw his face He faced the other way as I left; I had to shake off that metaphor, As inward, the doubts have crept. Lockdown pending, I had to visit him promptly- And so glad I did that day; Never did I expect he’d have weeks of isolation, Or that I’d have to stay away. My own body failed me, right when I wanted To be a dependable support; I know though, it was appreciated- Every prayer and thought. And when my hands were tied the most, I realised it’s not my story; All of these struggles with greater purpose, When gone through, will bring Him glory; Yet right now I sit, tears close to the surface, Wondering if I’ll be strong for the fight; And this time it’s not Dad’s reassurance- It’s God saying, “You’ll be alright!”. Never truly alone in this world, His help will remain with me- No more striving - only rest, As trusting in Him is the key.
Have you ever received such painful news that you couldn’t think beyond that particular sentence? Where the world stood still and even a small child, so beautifully dressed as a princess, crawling into your lap to request a story, could hardly have removed you from your stupor? I sat in that grief late afternoon today, not able to move towards child-like faith just yet. I longed to share the news and reduce the burden but I could not. Only the grownups could know.
A torrent of tears flowed then and have mainly flowed since, just as the heavy rain that falls outside my window. Rosie the cat came close, more like a dog than a cat, in terms of empathy. She burrowed her head in my lap, flopping down next to me, commanding the attention which would give me necessary diversion for a minute.
She knows. Whoever said cats are selfish doesn’t know my Rosie. She reminds me of another cat I had long ago, affectionately nicknamed The Shy Grey Hunter. Rosie isn’t shy, but she sure does know how to provide comfort when comfort is needed.
It’s ok to let those tears fall. Sometimes it’s the very least we can do. I figure if Jesus could weep over someone He was going to raise to life, I certainly can weep over someone too. Tears are part of being human. Some of us cry more readily than others, but how ever many tears want to fall, that’s how many should.
Tonight the torrents flow; tomorrow I will be more resolute and once more I will bang on heaven’s door, asking for not a change in facts but a display of God’s truth in the matter. I leave you with one of the most profound verses in the Bible, too short to forget…
Jesus wept.
Psalm 56:8 NLT
8 You keep track of all my sorrows.[a] You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.
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