2021 Winter Storm

 Just as I think there is nothing else to write on grief, a historic winter storm hits my entire state, resulting in an emergency situation of no electrical power or water. No heat for 65 hours forced me, like others, to drain pipes in a desperate attempt to prevent breakage. (The jury is still out on this, as I have not yet turned on the water.) When our neighborhood finally received restored power, we set about boiling possibly contaminated water. 

Fortunately, I have a lot of camping experience in primitive environments. I spent a summer sleeping in a tree hammock while providing health care to young children. I’ve enjoyed the wilderness with little amenities, but goodness, not in my own suburban home and rarely alone. 

Fortunate to have a small tent, I crawled in it several times a day to warm my chilled body. However, that  was also the very place where I struggled with intense loneliness.  Where are you, Rob? I need your body heat; I need you to tell me all is going to be well! Somehow, those two seemed to always go hand in hand in the past. Once again, I found myself fighting the demons of grief and loss.

As I begin to thaw, I’m struck with how tired I am. Not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually. My conversations with God have been  brutally honest. How long, oh Lord? I’m still waiting for the year when the land is supposed to rest! I’m tired of tragedy, Lord. I’m tired of coronavirus- induced isolation and all of it’s hideous loss. I’m just tired and this is the only thing in which I’m not alone. Please, tell me You’re listening!

 But once again, I lay down my questions and trust with a limp along with the rest of the fatigued. What else can we do?  I am grateful, Lord, that in You I find greater refuge than an earthly tent.  You’ve sheltered me in the shadow of your wing so many times; You’ll do it again and again with each trial ahead. You are good and trustworthy and kind enough to understand my need for my husband’s shelter as well.

Perhaps, I’ll never really be at a loss for grief words. 

“Give sorrow words; the great that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”  William Shakespeare