Walking

flikr, noahb

And so I dust myself off and continue my journey.

Life is like that...one big journey. With the news of my friend's sudden death last week, I ended up running back to pathways I'd travelled 20 years ago. Others came running back, too. We left loved ones, yelling over our shoulders as we dropped everything and took off. They stood, bewildered, as we ran.

We fell into each others' arms as we stood at the spot...this was not the reason we should be returning. Are we dreaming?

The place back on the path has become overgrown and lifeless. We pull apart the brambles and resurrect beautiful memories. We remember our beloved friend and laugh through our tears and shock.

But we weren't meant to stay here for very long. We become weary of trying to rationalize the irrational.

Before we leave, some of us point to God..."See Him? Do you know Him? He is in control. We can trust Him even though we do not understand." When we first travelled this pathway, God wasn't mentioned much. But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot. (Jeremiah 20:9). I speak of Him now. Gently. I have no choice.

Our loved ones are calling us from ahead and we want to return to them. And so we carefully tuck away our memories. Life is so fragile...we are reminded of that back at this place. We say goodbye to our friend, here in this place where her spirit is alive and joyful. We hear her laugh and feel her touch. How powerful memories are! We have needed each other to help retrieve the memories from the depths of our hearts. But we must go.

I see my loved ones in the distance. Their eyes full of love and compassion.

I pass friends, new and old, as I walk. I am tired. I hadn't been ready to run so suddenly and so far, but their encouragement strengthens me. I am so grateful.

And I am back.