Twilight

Good Morning Bright One,

Thank you for the lovely sunsets lately (I almost said SONSETS, haha); yesterday's popcorn cloud sunrise, the random doe with a red collar, kettling turkey vultures, and daily serenading of our red shouldered hawks that have taken post around the house.Thank you for sending Mariana sunsets too, and for teasing Eugene with random windshield wiper salutes and electronic door tricks. Thank you most especially for our sweet Michaela, the best gift you ever gave me.




Thank you for speaking through my wind chimes and for the squirrel posing on the head of my gargoyle.

Tiny, random moments when I feel you, baby. It is not enough (are you surprised). I want more and I am going to keep asking for more, but thank you anyway.

I read a little in my bible this morning for the first time since you left, and stumbled across one of my favorite verse from Psalms 34:18:

"When someone is hurting or brokenhearted, the Eternal moves in and revives her of her pain."

This, then reminded me of another favorite line I need to track down:

"Heart-shattered lives ready for love don't for one moment escape God's attention."

I found that one in a tiny devotional given to me after the divorce when you were 5 years old. Seed planted, it made me reach to God, take you guys to church, and latch onto God, like a baby at the breast. Jan Booth says you were a little scholar in sunday school (who knew?) and that you loved to sing hymns and color maps of the Holy land. You were her favorite, and she gave you a pocket cross that I recently found in a tiny raku goblet made by your Aunt Jeanne that I kept my Holy oil in so that I could anoint you in your sleep. The yarn of these connections keep winding through my mind like colored ribbons. Yes, colored ribbons indeed, that daily lead me out of the darkness of each long day.






What's up with God? His voice has softened below even a whisper, to a tiny, almost inaudible hum. I wonder why God doesn't speak louder during dark times? Why does He become so still? He is like that coldest moment, just before dawn; you know it, right? Just a vague sense of light, easily mistakable as the moon. Everything has stopped and is in the last moments of deepest sleep- bugs, birds, deer, rabbits, humans and even the wind do not move. You can hear your own heart beating and your breath. So cold, and still, but not lifeless.

Death is not what I feel then. I feel that hush just before an inhale when the lungs are empty and I have to really want to bring some air into them again....but not just yet. There is a pause. God is quiet too in the winding down of the moment. Everything appears at "FULL STOP" and only memory and hope tells me that there is still life.

It is where I am now, in the twilight waiting for God to make me inhale again, for the sun to rise, and the world and all creatures in it to open up crusty eyes and look for breakfast.

I don't know much anymore. My faith and understandings of life have been shaken and rattled so fiercely that don't know up from down.I am only sure of this and I cannot even tell you why.





































God is not mean.

God is love, or something very near it.

Maybe God is fueled by love?

So in my current chilly twilight I do sense a soft love of some sort still there-I feel it in the love I have for Chris, Kenzie and Hudson, my darling little man. He is just about to start smiling and cooing...proof enough that life is not ending. Oh Lord, thank you. I feel it in Mariana's tears, worried texts from Jenny Pearson and Marion, the post card you send me at sunset that send me charging out of my house and into my neighbor's yard for a look, and the memories of our love.


You and I loved each other well.No one who loved as well as you could be anywhere but bathed in love. I believe you are. If we have a collective unconscious; if everything we have seen and felt and experienced becomes a tapestry that cloaks us and prepares us for days ahead, then I think you here in full color. 

Love,

Your Momma