To the Woman Grieving at the roadside Cross

I passed you today, it was Thanksgiving.  We passed so quickly I only saw you but for a second.  You were standing there alone, your car parked off on the shoulder.  You stood, facing that simple white cross.

My heart immediately began to ache, my eyes began to burn with those unwanted tears.  Was this the first Thanksgiving without your loved one?  I know what that feels like…I remember.

I said “Oh, I feel like I should give her a hug.”  My husband – who I’m sure didn’t have a clue what I was talking about looked at me funny.

I should have told him to stop, to go back.  I wish I would have offered you a hug and grieved with you.

But I grieved with you from afar – as we traveled, passing countless little farm houses, tiny gas stations and emptied businesses.  They swept by like a blur but the image of you was clearly burned into my mind.

I felt guilty, sitting there in my car with all my most precious people safe with me; that we were headed to a house full to celebrate our grief -still a memory – but not fresh and raw like yours.

God made beauty from our ashes. I wish I would have stopped and given you that hope as well, or just listened while you told me all the wonderful things you remember about your love.

I wish I could have shared your grief with you.  I wish I could have just been silent and cried with you.  I’m sorry I didn’t stop – maybe it would have been awkward and maybe you just wanted to be alone.  But you weren’t.

I want you to know that you aren’t invisible in your grief.  I saw, I was there, and grieved with you.  I want you to know that I’m praying for you and there can be joy again in time.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Romans 12:15

 

 

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