Photo courtesy of Bing images.
The paint on the bedroom wall is faded to a tired blue. A tiny shelf with a wooden helicopter and worn copy of ‘Goodnight Moon’ sits alone. A faded copy of a well loved tale fingered eagerly by other children. The matching desk and chest of drawers wait…empty. The tapestry of a smiling bear hangs above a bed once full of the imaginings of little fingers and toes curled beneath the blue blanket once owned by a “wanna be” father, my husband.
I do not come in this room very much. The sound of the ticking clock on the nightstand, mock the unheard cry in my own heart are too much to bear some days. The sounds of time spent waiting.
Another day is ending… hope survived one more set of hours and concluded that rest is required in order to begin again. I rush to the place of slumber until morning where unhurried thoughts find their way into the quiet of my time alone in the early morning hours, here in my empty nest.
“Oh My precious one, I think of you and it makes My heart glad. I am your God and I am happy to overflow My love for you in a tangible way, even as you feel hope ebbing. My Spirit kisses you with gentle peace, the warmth of My heart of love for you, and then I sing. I sing sweet songs of kindness to restore your soul, and give you rest. Never doubt My deep love for you. It is with loving hands that I have formed you and hold you now. Come sing with me… others are waiting to hear your song.”
“Sing O barren, you who have not borne! Break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not labored with child! For more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married woman, says the Lord” Isaiah 54:1