Streams of Comfort

A few years ago, a few days before Thanksgiving, I lost a loved one. One of the most important persons in my life growing up. That year, I did not think we would have Thanksgiving. I was so drowned out by grief, I did not think that the sun would rise. Let alone think that we would have enough spirit to be thankful for anything. After the funeral though, God led us to a special space. We still felt the heavy blanket of grief and emptiness, but we also realized that celebrating thankfulness would fill us. My loved one would want nothing more than that. For us to smile even when it felt impossible. Every year, I find myself doing that. Smiling and thanking God, despite the ache that lingers. I pray this poem reaches those that find it difficult to be thankful in this season.

Thank you for holding the universe together
When I can barely hold myself.
This pain is a force of nature and even if I had magic powers I couldn’t stop it.
I knew.
This void of wanting to tear out my heart because every beat means more hurt and every breath means more wretched oxygen.
I’m torn between blaming God or you.
It comes with the change of seasons.
When the leaves decide to depart from the branch
Or the branch decides to let them go.
Like you did to me or I did to you.
Every ounce of my will is required to be thankful and the syllables don’t quite reach my tongue.
My will alone will never be enough.
To merely say the words goes against my everything.
But if there’s something I learned from prayer,
It’s that there is a power in uttering self shattering words.
To surrender my pain
And not only say thanks but feel the power of forgiveness in my soul.
So sudden that I realize that pain is the wrong side.
Like crochet, my life is woven by a gracious creator.
So when my will is not enough, His is.
Alice R., 11/26/24