Pieces

Broken bodies
Broken glass
Broken hearts
So many pieces to pick up
Although they may not be my own
They clearly lay in front of me
Scattered across the landscape
Of my city
Of my state
Of my country
Yet, love has not disappeared
It continues to weave
In and out of even the darkest days
Mingling with the broken pieces
Mending hearts
Mending lives
Mending souls
Offering flickers of hope
Amid feelings of despair
Showing us how to begin
Picking up the pieces

Woven

Peace and love
Words that fit
Together seamlessly
But sorrow and happiness
Don’t belong in
The same line
Each word needs
Its own place
Fills its own space
Well, that’s how
It would be
In a perfect world
But the truth is
This world
Is not perfect
Honest reflection asks
If perfection should
Be my goal, anyway?
Without deep sorrow
Can there be
True happiness?
No simple answer
Only a mystery
One I must accept
Allowing its truth to
Sink way down deep
Into my soul
Where sorrow
And happiness
Are woven together
An unbreakable seam
Holding the fabric of
My heart in place


Comfort in Sadness

I felt so sad this morning. I wanted to write last night, but I just couldn’t get my thoughts on paper. The source-the knowledge of two suicides in one day.

Two different people, in two different states. Neither one directly connected to me, but both connected to people I know and love. Those closest to these individuals left with more questions than answers.

I was struck with one question. If these two tragic deaths are causing such sadness for me, how much more for those directly impacted? What is my response? How can I possibly say anything to help?

I prayed, sent texts, checked in. That is a start, but certainly not enough. I must be more aware. Aware that there are hurting people around me. And they may not show just how deep their hurt dwells.

This sadness affected my teaching today. I was not as energetic as usual. I worked hard to keep my emotions in check. And I was pretty successful until the afternoon.

My fifth-grade classes require lots of patience and energy. They are right after lunch. I was tired. I tried to push through but was struggling.

Near the end of class, I was suddenly fighting back tears. No warning. And then one student asked, “Mrs. Morris, are you sad?” I nodded my head. “Did I make you sad?” “Oh no, of course not,” I responded, hoping there were no more questions.

And so tonight I sit, still sad. Still thinking about all those affected by this kind of tragedy. There is only one place to turn.

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4

Tomorrow I will get up and face the day. I will pray for those walking through this dark valley. That they will somehow begin to experience that comfort in their sadness.