I thought I could fly. Wind breezes by, lifting everything in sight. Clouds brush the sky with sweeping signs that heaven is real, God is undefeated.
We serve a Savior who still wins battles, even when we can’t always see it.
My girls hold hands, ten years apart. One walking the isle in less than three months. The bitter sweet thoughts leave tears flying soft.
I put on sunglasses.
They walk, talking, hand-in-hand into the distance.
And why can’t we control the plight of children? And even if we did, would it be like keeping a bird captive, clipping wings to a healthy eagle, destined to soar?
Wind pulls my tears hard into the sky, flowing high, out into the dessert walls, wide caverned walls of water, meet with them to sing.
I didn’t let them notice. Because all true music begins slowly, runs deeper than any superficial ear can hear.
Living quiet, shy, tucking tight the good and bad, hard and soft, winds and waves of life…because rocking boats always seemed to drown someone…
And often that was me.
And true confidence doesn’t need to speak. True dignity and identity never boasts or promotes, or heroinizes anything.
Prideful arrogance always reeks of insecurity.
And I learned, quiet tears are often better than ragging infernios, scarring the world with yetmore toxic haters.
You see, deep waters are never stagnant. No life is void of highs and lows. No journey comes without stiff mountains, wide desserts, leading you to places no man can quite comprehend.
And like a child, I had hid all my emotions behind dark glasses, covering up those windows to my soul. I didn’t want anyone to know the grieving that comes with losing someone you love…
Either to college, or death, or marriage,or separation….even natural losses resulting from the decisions of other people.
I held on to that deep grief that never leaves, but only changes with time and distance…
Convincing myself that loss isn’t defeat, but the realization that growth and change, and letting those you love leave takes true bravery and trust in the God who colored these skies beautifully…
Because any angel with wide wings always turns bitter if it cannot fly.
Open skies, even here, greet me in my grief.
They call me out to come rest in them, as I sit peacefully, skin in dirt, crying out to God to disperse, even a small portion of reprieve…
Time shifts all things, even the strongest of us mere mortals can’t stop it…
And sometimes we can’t get back dreams; lost, stories past…memories we long to freeze right in place and never let go of…
If we love, truly love….we will watch those we care about fly. We will not hold them back, keep them tethered, blocked, hindering their growth or development…
We will release. Let go. Encourage those to rise into the wide open of their hopes and dreams.
My brother-in-law was a professional, college educated engineer, in the city of Lima. Joy failed him, so he moved to a quiet region and did what he loved instead.
He now raises birds, to comb the fields. He gets them while they are young, and teaches them to
fly, then watches as they return to where they originated.
A good bird flies great distances, cleaning a field from pests, then returns to its owner though it has no incentive to.
And I wonder…isn’t that what God does with us? He molds and teaches us, then lets us loose, testing the deepest instincts in us?
He knows those who are His because they hear his voice, making their way to the Good Shepherd, time and time again, despite obstacles, distractions or distances?
Yet, why is letting go so hard? Why is the loosing those we love excruciating at times? Don’t we know they will eventually return to us?
That all good things we let loose of, will find their way back to where they originated, if we are brave enough to set them free?
“Please God, help me!” I knew this was the last trip we would take as a family. The last time we’d be the A-team, or the four amigos.
Things were changing…
Like the wind that whipped up untied hair, and made untucked t-shirts dance.
Wind plowing through that cavern like a rushing gust, not unlike the wind that must have accompanied the upper room.
“I need you.”
Hearts cry loud when they have nowhere to run.
And here I was, watching my children disappear out of sight, clinging to eachother for one last time.
My older daughter who once carried our adopted African American daughter with a tied sheet on her back, like she was her very own baby.
How will we cope without her presence, here, every single day? Will the wind bring her back? Or will the gust shoot strong and hard and take her to other places we cannot yet see?
I needed answers for my sorrowful soul. Still, sometimes, there aren’t any. And we must just let go…and trust we’ve done our best…
The next step is for her to grow, more than I can show her. Step back and let God be her teacher. Learn to trust and let the wind come and carry her to where He knows best.
I am not God. He is.
A lady with a white dress scoots along the dusty ground. Her pure dress drags unapologentically in the dirt. Wind whisks brush to swirl in the air, tainting everything…but she doesn’t care.
People gather. “What’s happening?” I finally stand and ask my husband.
“It’s a wedding.”
“Here?”
On this steep cliff, reaching down to a flowing river, chiseled high with steep ridges, reaching out to the open skies…the bride comes to meet her groom. Ninety days until my own daughter’s wedding.
I see them meeting…
Like the Father greeting me on the side of the cliff, tear-stained, waiting for my bride-groom to ease this gri
ef…
Beauty. Covenent. Union. New beginnings.
I was right where I needed to be….
Letting go.
Trusting. Stepping out, like a beggar, seeking the one who goes before our children, even when we can’t be there.
I could not hold these kite strings any longer. Giving away, I set them free.
Accepting the fact that perfection sometimes looks more like cliffs and valleys, wind and dust gatherings…Than some perfect picture on Pinterest.
And I was o.k. with that.
Slowly learning…on the endge of change, the cliffs of uncertainty…the winds of tomorrow long to take us all to places we can’t yet see with naked eyes…
Through tears and questions and “whys”….nothing can stay the same…
Because true love, was always made to fly.
I remember and know that, somewhere inside.
We drive away, as the bride and groom eventually wed…
And time, it has no end.
Here on the cliff of change, and a wedding, that changes everything.
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