There is room

Not long after she died my sister, Laura, came to me in a dream. She showed me a room in my house that I did not know was there. She also showed me a field behind my house that I was unaware existed. It was a breathtaking dream, full of joy and promise. 

“How did I not see all of this before?” I said.

She just smiled and said, “It’s always been here. There is room, so much room. There always has been. That’s what I know now.” Then she was gone.

I wish I could talk to Laura about turning 50. She was 52 when she died. I would say to her, “I think I know what I want to be for the next 50 years. I want to be present, really present in each moment and unattached from the outcome.”

I think she would smile and say, “That’s how you find the room you’re not seeing.”

Laura’s visit reminds me of the time when Jesus said, “In my Father’s house there are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?”

Easter makes room for us all to live relaxed in the roomy assurance that death is no end. 

Good Friday

There is a gravity to this day. A force that pulls me down to seated, so that I am still and quiet in the rinse of death. There is something to be learned in the slow stretch of time that follows death. Sorrow is a teacher offering a lesson that I will not learn if I move on too fast. All sorrow comes from love. When I stand still at the grave I have circled back to the birthplace of our original affection and in the stillness I feel your absence and your presence as we’re both overtaken by God who holds both life and death as one.

So be still…

cry your fool eyes out

bless your broken heart

….and know that I am God.