Hope is…..

….the first cry of a precious newborn babe.

….an early morning walk in white, thick mist where only an impression of the
       rising sun exists.  My soul feels the sun’s warmth before my eyes see
       proof.   

….definitely a thing with feathers.   Especially red bird feathers!

….poetry, songs, laments.

…a Jack Russell keeping vigil on the window sill awaiting his masters
      homecoming.

Life is full of changes.   Last month I kept vigil as my mother was in the active process of dying.  This month, I kept vigil as Elizabeth (daughter-in-law) labored to give birth.  Emptiness has been my companion for many months now.  It’s hard not to ‘judge’ this emptiness, to think I shouldn’t have it, to excuse it for sorrow of loss.  Some deeper wisdom asks me to just let it be.   It's not a problem unless I make it into one.

I'm aware that within the emptiness is deep joy.  Not joy as a feeling or emotion, but as being part of a greater whole.  Like nested dolls, each doll is part of a larger doll with the largest doll being God, Christ, Joy.  I hold my new grandson and marvel that he is a tiny ‘whole’ all in himself.  Yet he is nested in my arms, another whole, separate being.  He is nested in the love of his parents and extended family, who are equally nested in family, church groups, cultures, neighborhood, city, state, country, hemisphere, earth, galaxy, universe, other realms…and all are nested in the Greatest Whole  of Love, Creative Energy, God.  All are wholes within the Whole.   It gives me such grounding, such joy!  No matter what emotion, thought or circumstance I experience.

Sometimes the emptiness following me is felt deeply, but Joy is right there too, and quite sustaining.  Perhaps my grandson's birth helped me 'know' this in a deeper way.  I find it awesome that little Jude entered this world with the same gentle soul-soothing music that eased my mom’s transition from this life. What a healing, sacred way to celebrate the circle of life! I like to think mom’s spirit smiled with this little one’s arrival.  As I look into the cradle where Jude sleeps, I feel mom’s joy.  She always loved a baby with a ‘Vicks cough drop’ shaped mouth.  When Jude is hungry he sucks in his lower lip and puckers his top one emphasizing a perfect tiny triangular mouth.   Yes, Love surrounds Jude as he sleeps in the same cradle that nestled his daddy twenty-eight years ago.  

I am held, cradled by Love….always, no matter what happens or doesn’t, nor matter what is felt or not felt.  We are all held in the same Love, always.   Hope and joy are part of the embrace.   

Joyfully,
Sharon

                                                                Happy Birthday Jude!