God does not leave us comfortless...
A memorial service Monday, Daddy's failing health; death anniversaries of very dear relatives and family members coming up this week; reports of others in their last days...
All these reminded me of the pain of letting go and bring me to a poem I heard recently:
Let Evening Come
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
--Jane Kenyon (died of leukemia, 1995, age 48)
Evening has its own beauty: glowing sunset, fading light, rising moon; respite from the hastles of the day; conversation with loved ones...
Evening brings change, transition--whatever that may be.
Let evening come. It may lead into something so much brighter, richer, higher!
Meanwhile, "God does not leave us comfortless."