Dear Reader,
I know it is different, so I pray every word strikes a chord in your heart as the core message of this piece resounds within your spirit, in Jesus name. Amen
The skies turned gray, and I should have known.
A familiar ache bloomed in my chest. A pattern, I knew all too well.
The wind howled, tearing at the trees as if to summon them from their roots. Leaves severed harshly, scattered by the wind’s rage. The moon, once a beacon, cowered away; the light of the night was gone. I could equally not see my Lord. I had become a wanderer, left with my senses and my memory to guide me.
Foolish me, I squandered the precious currency of time. Every tear, every laugh, and every smile that reached my eyes- each a fleeting treasure I failed to hold close. I raced through life, eager for more, for something I could not grasp.
I aimed to wrap up my past like a gift box to a coworker. From someone familiar but nothing personal, nothing intimate. I was detached and I was drifting.
Now, these memories are my lifeline, the warmth of a blanket on a chilly night, the sweet taste of berries on my tongue, the echo of a melody that once filled his heart and mine. These memories are whispers of my love, John. My peace.
The man who showed me the way and asked me to leave it all for a more worthy cause. My john, my sanctuary, a lighthouse that beamed, a light that led my heart to a haven of calm.
I will never forget John. He ushered me into this life, one with no meaning and purpose. A world I wished to escape, one my heavy eyes shut hard to forget. A world I hoped would be kinder and softer to a lonely woman like myself.
“Lois, till we meet again, is not the end of our story”.
A promise whispered, and I believed. My spirit, a witness. But regret, like a bitter pill, still lingers. I should have etched his image deeper in my mind, held his hand a bit longer, and inhaled his homely scent. I was oblivious to the cruelty of life, and I had no clue, that day would be our last.
In my John’s absence, I weathered a miscarriage. Our seed, the only tangible piece of him I could have held onto, and now, I face an execution.
They called me a fool for standing by my convictions. The whispers, the jabs, the insults, a relentless assault like the unceasing rain on this stormy night. They pelted hard and they brought me to my knees. Shame became my middle name, Forsaken was my lot, Unwise my portion, and Death my future.
The son of man had forsaken me, he had abandoned me, my mind rovers for my lord in this hell. I know He is here, but does that lessen my pain, evacuate this weight of sorrow that threatens to crush my already fractured spirit?
This burden I must bear. But even as my cracked lips draw blood, I whisper a plea into the air, into His ears, ‘Jesus, make me brave’
You guys, thank you for reading, for sharing, and for commenting!
I know I said our letters would be different, but how was this for you, what is your biggest takeaway?
Let me know what you think. Also, what do you think about Lois and John?
From your girl,
Lola. K
For some reason, I love reading about irreparable losses. I enjoyed reading this.
Beautiful piece. I enjoyed reading this.