Saturday, December 31, 2022

A long night’s journey into life

A long night’s journey into life

I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:5-6)

Tears are telling. Warm as life and silent as night, they are the voice of your soul. They come to remind you that you are so much more than the thoughts you direct from one thing to another to navigate your days.

They sneak up on you, these tears, like at a moment when gratitude overwhelms the heart from a hidden reservoir rising within to wash away everything that is not love.

It is then we are finally ourselves, not the one you routinely show the world but the self the Blessed Source made as an emblem of Love’s holy image in time and space.

So it was as, we sat at a table in a hospital lounge, waiting for news of a heart removed and another implanted in a young girl. We waited, parents and grandparents, pastors and friends, seated in a holy temple of healing, knowing our beloved lay in the hands of hearts dedicated to preserve what only One can create.

And all the while, we knew: in another room, in another hospital, in another town another family wept tears of another sort while giving a gift of life to be winged over a Midwest prairie and rushed through Chicago streets to waiting hands who would sew life back into a girl named Sydney. Our Sydney.

Opening my mouth to speak only tears came out, gratitude for a holy place given to heal what is broken, for the hands who packed a heart for travel, for the pilot of the plane, and the driver of the transport car, for the 24-hour days and long years of study and practice that enable human hands to do what was once unthinkable, for a grieving family that suffered the unthinkable and still managed to give; and for the family at this table so palpably filled with fear, love and hope that we might burst amid the long hours of unknowing.

Words capture but a glimpse of what our hearts know. Tears do that job. And two words, thank you. Thank you … for all of it, for all of us, for the whole blessed mess of living and dying, all of it teaching us the beauty of loving and discovering we are more human and more like you, Loving Mystery, than we had imagined.

Thank you for the love wringing prayers of hope and healing from our hearts and for the tears that do the talking when nothing else can.

And thank you, Holy One, for the beauty of a life preserved. Our Sydney.

David L. Miller

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

As I read this I thought of a little girl whose grandparents asked for prayers from our church prayer chain as she was getting a new heart- and her name is Sydney! Amazing world and prayers for Sydney and for the family of the donor.

Unknown said...

I have been privileged to read your writings in Christ In Our Home for the past 2 weeks. They touched my heart in the deep feelings and faith that you have. As I read this "story" I, again was moved at how you put your feelings into words. Thank you for your writings and stories and now I shall continue reading your blog to deepen my faith.

Anonymous said...

God has given you the gift of words that bless and comfort others. It was a privilege to read your writings in Christ in Our Home and to discover your blog. Such a blessing. Thank you!

Anonymous said...

Christ in Our Home has been a valued companion for 20+ years. Your thoughts in the last two weeks of December were particularly to the point for our rather tattered society. Thanks!

Anonymous said...

Wondering of Sydney’s condition…prayers continued