Our Wilderness—
We thirsted and you provided.
We are still in a place of questions. Lord? What is next? How do we proceed? Where are you taking us from here?
I am not afraid.
I am sad.
My mother died in this wilderness.
I knew where the road was leading.
I knew that the encompassing cloud by day and the fire by night was following to where we were going.
My loss: my mother’s gain.
It is not exactly a loss for me.
Not seeing my mom in excruciating pain, and confusion, is such a wonderful thing.
My loss is not a loss of my love for her, or of the memories of her.
My loss is her physical presence. My loss is her hugs: Her touch: Her smile.
Yes. I have the memories.
My memories, however, are not actual physical comfort.
I have days when I need it.
This wilderness does not frighten me.
The unknown does not frighten me.
It is the unnerving realization that I no longer have her hand to hold.
I have the feeling of a young child in a large, scary place, without my mom in my line of sight.
I am not lost.
I just don’t see her.
This wilderness is not an insurmountable place. It is a place of trust. A place of confidence.
The Lord God himself led me here.
I will have my mother’s touch through the touch of loved ones, of friends, and of strangers, who see I need a to see my mom in their gracious gesture, or in their kind smile.
I am not out of the line of sight. I am not lost.
I am in a new and different place. It will be a place of beauty and love because this is where we have been called.