It’s late.
He tells me he
Doesn’t want to live,
How he’ll do it,
Take his life
And I will my heart to slow,
My mouth to shut
So I can
Hear,
Reach through the red,
Grab truth and
Hold it tight
Because he
Can’t see,
Crushed past caring,
Shrouded in gray
“Just an hour,” I say,
“Not a week or a month
Or even a day,
Just the very next thing.”
He wills against emotion,
“One week.”
Oh, God!
I ask for a month,
Time for God to work
He writes it in red
One month in
Minutes and hours
Counting backwards from his
Wrist
Thirty days
Shrouded in gray,
I huddle,
Chilled to the soul,
Waiting for day
Praying silent,
Without words
I can no longer find.
I wake him Sunday
Touch his shoulder warm
We made it
Through the night…
And stop!
A cold black knife
Gapes from the sheet,
Angry words scrawled
Across both wrists,
FAITH and TRUST.
“Tatoos?” I ask trying to smile
“To remind me,” he admits,
Not to do it.”
Ohhhhhhh…
Fear curls cruel fingers
Round my gut and
Words whisper hard,
“I’m glad.”
Oh, Lord…
You are my God,
In perfect faithfulness,
A refuge to the needy,
A shelter from the storm.
On this mountain You will destroy
The shroud that enfolds,
The sheet that covers,
You will swallow up death and
Wipe away tears,
Because surely
You are God!*
I lean low,
Kiss his forehead
And whisper,
“I love you.”
“Cherish these twelve seconds,”
My husband had whispered to me just last week.
“Hmmm,” I muse. “How wise.”
Cause what if one day
These twelve seconds are really
All we’ve got?
*Taken from Isaiah 25:1,4,7,8,9
These have been the hardest parenting moments of my life. But in all, God is GOOD and He is enough…more than enough…always. This isn’t an easy read, but our hope as a family is that telling this story, being open and honest and transparent, will offer hope to someone else to “cherish these twelve seconds” and give God time to work.
Like this:
2 bloggers like this post.
