In the Middle of My Grief

In the middle of my grief, one came.

She heard my cries before I shed the first tear.

She walked slowly towards me,

Careful not to add to the noise that already surrounded me.

 

I wasn’t startled, just surprised, to see her standing there.

Timid arms, with hands that weren’t sure what to do.

Wide-opened but scared of what would come next.

 

In the middle of my grief, she spoke to me.

Directly. Intimately. Specifically.

She announced her intentions; shared her apprehension,

opened up to share her own vulnerabilities.

 

In the middle of my grief, she offered comfort;

shared her frustrations;

didn’t pretend to understand but wanted to.

 

In the middle of my grief, she felt my pain;

And cared.

 

In the middle of my grief, another one came.

She was deaf to my cries; blind to my tears.

She came towards me,

As a cat walks carefully towards a bird, ready to pounce.

 

I wasn’t surprised to see her; she’d come before.

One hand extended in love, while the other, with a finger shaking.

Bold, and without hesitation of what she spoke next.

 

In the middle of my grief, she knew no comfort;

Frustrated by my response,

She didn’t try to understand beyond her own view.

 

In the middle of my grief, she created more pain;

Then offended.

 

In the middle of my grief, one gave me something I wasn’t expecting.

The other one took away something I worked hard at protecting.

 

In the middle of my grief.

                                                                                    gloria green

6/3/2020

So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.

John 16:22