A day redeemed

Last night I grieved all night in my sleep. My own painful sobbing in my dreams woke me. I got up and headed outside, thinking some fresh air would help.

Usually, the early morning garden can lift my spirits. The beauty of what ever is blooming, and the physical work of turning the soil, calms my spirit. Not today.

There was no solace in the garden.

There is an unmistakable groaning a mother makes just before she gives birth. I now know that there is also another groan a mother makes when her child dies. It comes from so far deep in your soul that it contracts your entire body.

I stayed in the garden as long as my strength would hold—but grief is a cruel task master. Hannah came out to help just as I went in.

I think Hannah made some calls. Next thing I knew the yard was buzzing with teenagers, the second shift had arrived. Katrina came over to drop off kids, and stayed to help.

They worked all through the heat of the day.

Then the third shift arrived.

Travis and his friend Brandon came. Soon after, Travis’s mom came, then Ester Rocke, and a long lost friend Annette Ferguson. They jumped in where the last shift left off. By day’s end we could see hope of a wedding really taking place in this garden next month.

As I write, I am exhausted, but blessed. The day was redeemed, and I don’t fear sleep. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth.