How Does a Rock Praise God?

Today Is a "Would Be" Day

Today is a “would be could be” day. Hannah would have been thirty today.  “Would be could be should be” entices me to leave the present. What would today be like if Hannah had lived? Such imaginings are nothing more than steam from a kettle. hey tempt me to numb the ache just for a moment. She died six years, two months and sixteen days ago. I am in this physical world aching to be with her.....to hear and see Hannah laugh.....to hug her and say, “Happy Birthday, Hannah”. 

As I write there is a memory of another parent’s grief. When King David’s and Bathsheba’s illegitimate child was dying, David left food, sleep, and good hygiene to plead with God for the child’s life. The child died. Those around David were fearful to tell him. How would the unkempt haggard and king react at this news? But he must be told. When he heard, he got up, took a bath, dressed in royal robes, worshipped God in the temple, then ordered food. Business was as usual. Those around him were curious at his cheerful behavior. 

I struggle to live gracefully in the ache of Hannah’s absence. Yet, David’s words after his son’s death comfort me with what will be: “While the child was still alive I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? Yahweh may be gracious to me and let the child live...I will go to him, but he will not return to me.” 

"Looking Beyond"

I will go to Hannah when the Creator Savior beckons on my death day, "Enough, child. It is time for you to come home; time to be with me. "  That is what He said to Hannah on October 13, 2006. Now she is present with Him. She laughs and basks in heaven’s music untethered by any ache. That will be true of me. But, “will be” can entice as much as “would be could be should be”. 

So today how do I live gracefully in the ache of Hannah’s absence? 

I remember and cry.

I go by the grave and leave flowers. I have lunch in honor of Hannah with my husband, son, and daughter-in-law. 

I remember and sigh.

I can dance to heaven’s music - not well and very clumsily. God for whom heaven sings is with me and He is the music. He pours grace into the ache, then steps into the dance. He presses me to His heart, leans down and whispers, “I know. Just stand on my feet and let me carry you today.”

I remember and smile.