Shivering in the morning chill, my porch is no longer my comfort place. Birds chirp insistently, the feeder empty. Flitting from tree to tree, they come back to complain. Still, I remain, unable to gather the energy to add seeds for my winged friends. Later, I whisper, later I will bring you food. I may be lying. I’m too cold but can’t get up, I know warmth is only steps away, inside, a blanket, socks. Still, I remain. Everything is empty, drained of hope, drained of joy, drained of caring.
The dogs are slowed, responding to my ache. They don’t play, the sit and asked only sometimes to be petted. They know we are having a funeral for my hope. My Plum told me at dinner that I looked sad. No masking my desolation from this perceptive child, he sees into my soul. I admitted that I was, asked what he does when he feels that way. He suggested I hug one of my specials, he hugs his purple blankie. He is my special. I cannot hug him long enough to quell this hurt.
Sunday again, time for church. I don’t want to go, I don’t want to move from my cold porch, change from my ratty robe, talk to anyone, hear music. I don’t want to enter into God’s house. Rather I want God to come see me here on my porch and bring me hope. I want God to tell me this isn’t a funeral. To whisper, be patient, my child. She is safe. Even then I may think He is lying. I don’t know how to trust again. This is what it feels like to be alone, without the surety that God is leading the way. Tricked, confused, lost, how can I know what is right anymore. Then the sun begins to hit my chair, spreading warmth. Damn warmth, damn light, right where I sit. Angry, I miss the cold. I want to stay in the cold, the empty. It keeps my numb. I don’t want to feel angry, that lets other feelings in. I can’t bear the other feelings.
My head is screaming just leave me alone yet my soul is aching for the presence of the One who sees me. Grieving again, too much grieving. Unbearable heartache and I have to go to God’s house to sit with others who worship. I may sing the songs but I could be lying.