Face to face I stand
With an emotionally weary mother.
I pierce into her eyes.
She grants permission to see her soul.
I see fear, helplessness, weakness, vulnerability, and strength.
After a boxing match with her tantrum boy child,
Bruised emotionally from marital separation,
And tension with the father, exhaustion envelops her.
In the post-match conversation,
She tells her story of marriage, family, and children.
Stories with many chapters…
Some beautiful, others painful.
Looking intently into her eyes,
Her teary eyes scream out the words of the Psalmist,
“From the depths I call to you, Yahweh,
Lord, listen to my cry for help!
Listen compassionately to my pleading.”
From what depths?
The depths of the abyss – that dark place of painful helplessness
The tomb where Christ descended and trapped
The space of total abandonment,
Where she’s alone, surrendered to her God
Waiting, waiting, waiting for the resurrection.
Waiting for New Life.
For Change.
Beloved Reflections 